Lady Catherine, the unhelpful
by sunburntdaisy
Summary: If Lady Catherine had realised that nothing is more appealing than when it is forbidden, she might have stayed away, and hoped against hope that the rumour about her nephew was no more than that... and she would not have been so helpful in teaching him t
1. Chapter 1

If Lady Catherine had realised that nothing is more appealing than when it is forbidden, she might have stayed away, and hoped against hope that the rumour about her nephew was no more than that... and she would not have been so helpful in teaching him to hope...

**from chapter 58:**

_The gentlemen arrived early; and... Bingley, who wanted to be alone with Jane, proposed their all walking out. It was agreed to. Mrs. Bennet was not in the habit of walking; Mary could never spare time; but the remaining five set off together. Bingley and Jane, however, soon allowed the others to outstrip them. They lagged behind, while Elizabeth, Kitty, and Darcy were to entertain each other. Very little was said by either; Kitty was too much afraid of him to talk; Elizabeth was secretly forming a desperate resolution; and perhaps he might be doing the same._

_They walked towards the Lucases, because Kitty wished to call upon Maria; and as Elizabeth saw no occasion for making it a general concern, when Kitty left them she went boldly on with him alone. Now was the moment for her resolution to be executed, and, while her courage was high, she immediately said,_

_``Mr. Darcy, I am a very selfish creature; and, for the sake of giving relief to my own feelings, care not how much I may be wounding your's. I can no longer help thanking you for your unexampled kindness to my poor sister. Ever since I have known it, I have been most anxious to acknowledge to you how gratefully I feel it. Were it known to the rest of my family, I should not have merely my own gratitude to express.''_

_``I am sorry, exceedingly sorry,'' replied Darcy, in a tone of surprise and emotion, ``that you have ever been informed of what may, in a mistaken light, have given you uneasiness. I did not think Mrs. Gardiner was so little to be trusted.''_

_``You must not blame my aunt. Lydia's thoughtlessness first betrayed to me that you had been concerned in the matter; and, of course, I could not rest till I knew the particulars. Let me thank you again and again, in the name of all my family, for that generous compassion which induced you to take so much trouble, and bear so many mortifications, for the sake of discovering them.''_

He sighed, walked on. She knew not what he thought or felt and wondered how long they would walk in silence if she did not speak again.

She was saved from such ponderings when he soon spoke, "It was through my mistaken pride, my reserve, that his character was not made known to the world."

She looked at him in wonder. "You claim responsibility?"

"Not for his actions, but for my own inaction. I could have done more. I protected my own family, and poorly at that, but none beyond."

"It was not your responsibility to do so. Others are culpable."

"You must let me carry some portion of blame."

"I must do no such thing." She sighed. "Perhaps we are safer speaking of the weather."

"The state of the roads."

She turned, surprised to see his mouth turned up in mischief. "Perhaps not."

They walked on for a minute before she spoke again.

"May I ask one thing? And then we'd best leave the subject behind."

He nodded, catching her eye. His look made no promise he would answer her, but she could ask.

"Does Miss Darcy know of it?"

"No."

Elizabeth let out the breath she'd been holding.

"I told her a matter of business called me to London. As to your sudden departure: she assumed one of your family was unwell."

"Thank you."

He shook his head, her thanks, again, unnecessary. "She was disappointed to lose your company. I have rarely seen her so open and comfortable with new acquaintance."

Elizabeth smiled.

"She will have her first season in town this coming year."

"Is she looking forward to it?"

"I can hardly say."

"But you are not."

He smiled at her apt observation. "No."

"Have no fear; I will not tease you about your distaste for balls, Mr Darcy. It is too easy."

"You are too kind."

"Hardly." She laughed. "But you will suffer through it for your sister – an ideal elder brother."

He blushed, turning away, and kept walking in silence. Eventually, he spoke. "Do you ever visit your Aunt and Uncle Gardiner during the season?"

"I have – and you know Jane has. Not anually by any means."

"I ask because I am sure, given the opportunity, Georgiana would like to reknew the acquaintance."

Elizabeth could hardly believe it. This was his way of asking if she would be in town, if she would in fact become more acquainted with his sister, and by connection, with himself. She knew she must give him some response, and soon, but her mind spun with wonder and disbelief. "I too would be happy to see her again. But I have no fixed plans for the winter. Well," she caught the sound of Mr Bingley's happy laughter on the breeze and turned to see her soon-to-be brother take Jane's hand and press it to his chest, a way back along the road, "I suppose there is one certain event planned for the winter."

"Yes, and a happy one at that."

She had rarely seen him smile so widely and found herself wishing to witness it more often. "I must ask whether you were surprised."

"Not at all. When I went away I felt that it should soon happen."

She smiled, guessing he had given his permission, or something similar.

"Dare I ask what amuses you so?"

"You may."

He waited, watched her expression, shook his head ever so slightly and chuckled. "What amuses you, Miss Bennet?"

"You do."

He sighed, wondering if there was any way to get a straight answer, and at the same time enjoying the conversation too much to wish her more direct.

"I am teasing you, Mr Darcy. If we are to be friends you will have to get used to it."

"I did not complain." Longbourne came into sight and he turned to see how far behind Jane and Bingley had lagged. "So you will not tell me?"

"I am not certain you would wish to hear my thoughts."

"And when has that stopped you?"

She was surprised by his abruptness.

"I am sorry, I should not have..."

"Nay," she stopped his apology with the lightest of touches to his arm. "If I cannot take a little teasing in response I would be poor company."

"I think there is an art to teasing – one which I am yet to have mastered."

She smiled. "I should write to Miss Bingley as soon as we return – I have discovered your fault."

"I should have thought you knew them all."

"See – you are already improving. Perhaps you should take your Aunt's advice and practise. But I would give you one piece of advice."

"By all means."

"Serious topics should be avoided, or only touched on. Self deprecation is usually safe, but in this case..."

"Somehow I am proud, and self-deprecating."

"No." She shook her head as they slowed to a stop, letting Jane and Bingley catch them up, though the couple were clearly in no hurry to do so. "You are not so proud; a little shy perhaps. A family trait I think."

"Indeed." he seemed to study her face, perplexed about something.

She dare not ask what. Their conversation seemed too daring, and she had one more difficult thing to say before Jane and Bingley interrupted them. "I had hoped for an opportunity to apologise and I doubt I will find another such opening to do so – though my courage is failing me."

He looked even more confused.

"For my words that day. I abused you horribly. I, who prided myself on observing and understanding character, was entirely wrong about yours."

He shook his head to disagree as the crunch of approaching footsteps halted their conversation.

"Well, Darcy, shall we be off?" Bingley reluctantly let Jane's hand drop from his arm and all too soon they were gone.

Elizabeth had hoped to feel more of a burden lifted, but without his reply she felt her apology half-done. Would she revisit it again? Would he? She had to wonder.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 59**

_``Good gracious!'' cried Mrs. Bennet, as she stood at a window the next morning, ``if that disagreeable Mr. Darcy is not coming here again with our dear Bingley! What can he mean by being so tiresome as to be always coming here? I had no notion but he would go a-shooting, or something or other, and not disturb us with his company. What shall we do with him? Lizzy, you must walk out with him again, that he may not be in Bingley's way.''_

_Elizabeth ...was really vexed that her mother should be always giving him such an epithet._

_As soon as they entered, Bingley _proposed another walk.

_``I advise Mr. Darcy, and Lizzy, and Kitty,'' said Mrs. Bennet, ``to walk to Oakham Mount this morning. It is a nice long walk, and Mr. Darcy has never seen the view.''_

_...Kitty owned that she had rather stay at home. Darcy professed a great curiosity to see the view from the Mount, and Elizabeth silently consented. As she went up stairs to get ready, Mrs. Bennet followed her, saying,_

_``I am quite sorry, Lizzy, that you should be forced to have that disagreeable man all to yourself. But I hope you will not mind it: it is all for Jane's sake, you know; and there is no occasion for talking to him, except just now and then. So, do not put yourself to inconvenience.''_

They were not out of sight of the house before Mr Darcy began in earnest. "You will forgive me for returning to another serious conversation with so little a precursor, but I cannot allow you to blame yourself entirely, to forgive me so readily. I had treated you abominably. What did you say of me that I did not deserve? Your..." he sighed, "Your brother-in-law aside, my behaviour to you at the time was unpardonable. I should be asking your forgiveness – in fact, as I'm unlikely to find such another opening..."

"Perhaps we should not argue for the greater share of blame annexed to that evening."

He seemed unwilling to leave the subject behind but did not say so directly.

"The conduct of neither, if strictly examined, will be irreproachable; but since then, we have both, I hope, improved in civility." She hoped that would appease his strict sense of justice.

"I cannot be so easily reconciled to myself. But I will say no more."

They walked on in silence, both watching, and trying not to watch, Jane and Bingley, who walked ahead of them. She thought of his referencing Wickham as her brother-in-law. The reminder was most unwelcome – just as she felt a friendship with Mr Darcy might be possible, she was forced to remember that even a friendship would be a lot to ask or expect. She could certainly never hope for more. He was not so proud as she had once thought, but he was not about to welcome Wickham as a brother. She found herself hoping for the friendship he seemed to offer in his evident hope she befriend his sister, and in the next moment she wondered if it was wise. She could not deny that he intrigued her, he had earned her admiration and respect, her gratitude. He was truly a good man, one she had come to value too late. Befriending him now might always, and only, be a painful reminder of her own foolishness, of what could never be, and of what, she must now admit to herself, if never to anyone else, she greatly regretted rejecting.

"Are you well, Miss Bennet?" The subject of her thoughts interrupted them.

"I am sorry. Yes, I am well – only a poor companion this morning."

"You are certain you are well?"

She nodded and smiled.

"You need hardly apologise to me for a lapse in conversation, Miss Bennet."

She laughed. "See now? That is just how to do self-deprecation."

"Ah, but I was not teasing."

"Oh. Well, I will be a willing object if you wish to practise."

"I am not sure I am ready for that. It would be as if a beginner were to play chess against a master – neither gain anything from the exchange. The beginner is embarrassed, confused, and learns nothing, while the master is frustrated, confused, and..."

She watched him, waited for the end of his statement, but it was not forthcoming. "And dismayed?"

"That is almost a synonym for frustrated and confused."

"But you need a third descriptor for rhetorical purposes. Amused?"

"That would be more likely. You find great amusement in my faults."

"And we are back to your faults again. They are not so great as to take up so much of our conversation. If laughing at faults must be our subject, and it is a good starting place for a lesson in teasing, then let our object be some other acquaintance."

"Tell me where lies the boundary between teasing and mockery. Is it fair to 'tease' one not here to defend themselves?"

"No. You are right. And there is a very fine line. You are right to check me."

"Perhaps I was teasing you."

She laughed. "I'm not certain you need my help then."

"I was practising."

She noticed he looked a little proud of himself, but in a charmng, child-like way. She tore her eyes from his handsome face – no, not only handsome. There was more than that, or she would not have needed to tear her eyes away. He was not merely handsome. He was dear. And he was out of reach.

"My Aunt would probably not approve in this instance."

Elizabeth smiled, brought back to the conversation. "I cannot imagine her advice on teasing. She, no doubt, already thinks me impertinent."

"I thought she liked you."

"She has an interesting way of expressing it."

"A family trait." He countered.

She laughed.

"Was that it – teasing and self-deprecation in one?"

"In one."

"All I needed was a proper object."

"Lady Catherine would be glad to have been of use." Elizabeth added.

"So long as she needn't know for what she was... used."

"I think I can safely promise to never tell her."

They fell into a companionable silence, both with plenty to think on – Darcy congratulating himself on making her laugh, on a step in the right direction, wondering if it was too soon to ask her again, believing it must be and wondering how he would ever find the courage to do so, and at the same time uncertain how he would ever find the patience to not ask her directly. Elizabeth's mind was less agreeably engaged – in regret and self-reproach. Being with him like this, talking and laughing with ease, only reinforced her growing certainty that he was exactly what she might have ever hoped for in a partner in life.

Weary of her thoughts, she tentatively began another conversation, "Do you plan to stay in the neighbourhood until the wedding?"

"No. I have business to attend to in town. But Georgiana will be glad of the opportunity to return with me. She will be most anxious to attend Bingley's wedding."

Elizabeth smiled at that, glad of further evidence that a match between Mr Bingley and Miss Darcy was entirely the makings of Caroline Bingley's jealous imagination.

"I confess I am looking forward to having her with me."

"I am quite envious. My dearest sister will soon be much less available to me."

"Netherfield is conveniently located then."

"Indeed. But it won't be the same."

"No." He smiled wickedly, "A good excuse for a walk, perhaps."

She laughed. "What you must have though of me."

"No ill on my part, I assure you. Your affection for your sister was admirable."

"I am due no merit there. But tell me – what did Miss Bingley say on the occasion?"

He laughed, "something about the mud on your dress."

She cringed and turned away.

"She was the only one who noticed."

"In that instance perhaps. I have something of a reputation for... how would my mother put it? Willful independence? I have never been happy indoors for too many hours together and with so many sisters..." she sighed, uncertain how to go on, "Peace and solace were not always available within the walls of Longbourne."

"I am spoilt for peace and solace. There is by no means a shortage of it within the walls of my home, as you can imagine, but I tend to ride out nonetheless."

"Even Pemberley cannot compete with God's creation."

"Indeed." He smiled and wondered at his good fortune, knowing that, should he win Elizabeth's hand, he could never doubt the sincerity of her affections. Had she wanted wealth and status, she would never have refused him at Hunsford. Since his first exposure to the ton, he had feared being taken in. That fear had no doubt reinforced his natural reserve and contributed to the poor impression he'd made in Hertfordshire. He found himself strangely grateful for Elizabeth's rejection of his suit and wondered if he could ever have acknowledged the feeling without some glimmer of hope that a second proposal might one day be accepted. One day.

The next time he visited Longbourne, his Sister joined him. In a week Jane and Bingley would marry, and Elizabeth found herself fleeing the house more and more regularly, always a willing chaperone on a walk if it meant escaping her mother, and scarcely found within for more than meals and visitors. So it happened that Elizabeth was out when Mr and Miss Darcy came to call.

The following day, Elizabeth and Jane took the carriage to Netherfield, to return the call. Miss Bingley was eager in her manners, too eager to be believed, Elizabeth thought. They were shown to the parlour and Miss Darcy stood, shy but clearly happy to see the guests. Once the usual queries and answers were made, Elizabeth became nervous. Miss Bingley, as hostess, guided the conversation, and amidst all the talk of wedding preparations, Elizabeth feared the mention of Lydia and her new husband.

The subject turned to after the wedding and Miss Bingely graciously acknowledged that she would soon relinquish her role as hostess at Netherfield, asking Jane if she or Miss Darcy could be of any assistance in the transition, only vaguely aluding to Miss Bennet's inexperience in running a household. Jane took up the opportunity to ask a few questions, specific to Netherfield, and Miss Darcy turned from her conversation to address Elizabeth.

"We were sorry to lose your company in August. I hope all is well."

Elizabeth was surprised for a moment, then nodded. "It is. I too was sorry to leave you so abruptly, but it could not be helped. Did you remain there for the summer?"

"I did. But my guests did not, and my brother had business in town."

Elizabeth felt half-sick at knowing the nature of his 'business' and Miss Darcy's necessary ignorance of it. She had feared Caroline's disclosure and never considered Miss Darcy would be so close to touching on it herself.

"He returned as soon as he was able, but much as I love my home, two weeks with little company renders the house far too large."

"Yes, it would. You must have been eager for London."

"For family and friends, yes. For the city?" She shook her head.

Elizabeth smiled. "Then you and I are in agreement."

"You prefer the country?"

"Absolutely. Though I rarely go to London, and enjoy it heartily for the week or two I am there, I am glad I can always come home to muddy fields and trees and rocks."

"And the wide open sky." Miss Darcy added enthusiastically, then blushed.

"Exactly." Elizabeth reached out and touched her arm, reassuring her. "To see for miles in every direction and breath good, fresh air. To know that no one can see me, should I feel the sudden need to run or spin in circles."

"Or cartwheel." Miss Darcy laughed.

That drew the jealous attention of Miss Bingley who joined the conversation and heartily agreed that the outdoors was far superior to within.

"I have seen little of Netherfield's gardens," Miss Darcy hesitantly suggested, "Perhaps we might take tea out of doors today."

"It is a beautiful day," Elizabeth agreed.

"But so cold, and there is a breeze which makes the chill much worse." Caroline took command, "No, we cannot risk your health so, Miss Darcy. And dear Jane, we could not have you ill only days before your wedding. No, indeed. Perhaps another day."

Miss Darcy seemed to deflate a little, and looked down. When she looked up Elizabeth smiled at her.

Their visit soon ended with wishes and promises of varying sincerity that they would meet again before the wedding.


	3. Chapter 3

Knowing Miss Bingley's propensity to manipulate, Elizabeth was not surprised that they did not meet again until the wedding. It was not without trepidation that she walked up the aisle ahead of her sister, seeing Mr Darcy at Bingley's side. Both gentlemen turned. Bingley looked past her, his object his bride. But Elizabeth was unprepared for the look Mr Darcy gave her, or the feelings it stirred in her. She tore her eyes from his, her happiness for her sister drowned out by sadness for herself at what could have been, but for her blindness, her sister's foolishness, Wickham's... no she blamed herself first and foremost. She, who prided herself on studying human nature, who had accused him of pride and yet had sat in judgement, measuring him on a poor first impression. She had attacked him for assuming to understand Jane's feelings about Mr Bingley, but that had been rectified. If only her own false assumptions, which had now been painfully corrected, could be forgiven. If only the price of self-knowledge were not so high.

She caught his eye again at the reverend's pronouncement that Jane and Bingley were man and wife. Charles was grinning so much so that she laughed. She looked past him and her laugh caught in her throat. Mr Darcy looked sad. For a moment she wondered if he might be envious of his friend's happiness, but she shook herself out of such wishful thinking and gave him a smile.

In a moment, she knew she must take his arm and walk out of the church behind the happy couple, as if they were common and indifferent acquaintances. In fact they must meet every six months or so by chance, at the Bingley's, it seemed inevitable. She would ever be faced with such a reminder of what might have been.

His touch was light as he placed her hand on his arm. She was far too aware of his warmth, coming through her gloves. One day he would probably marry. Elizabeth could only hope that their visits to the Bingley's would rarely coincide.

"Are you well?" His voice was only just audible above the music and applause.

She looked up at him and nodded, forcing a smile to her features. Then they were at the doors and she let him go, stepping ahead to congratulate Mr and Mrs Bingley. Her friends and family members soon piled out of the church and she was easily distracted by one and then another conversation. When she eventually stood alone for a moment, she found herself searching for him. To no avail. Miss Darcy smiled at her from the edge of the crowd and Elizabeth passed through the people to greet her new friend.

"Good morning, Miss Darcy. Are you well?"

"I am." The girl grinned. "And you?"

"Yes."

"It was a beautiful wedding." Miss Darcy said.

Elizabeth nodded. "They will be very happy."

"I think they have begun already. I have not seen Mr Bingley without a smile on his face the entire time I've been in the county."

Elizabeth laughed, "Yes, at some point his cheeks must begin to ache."

On Miss Darcy's laugh her brother approached.

"Good morning Miss Bennet."

Elizabeth curtseyed, "We were just marvelling at Mr and Mrs Bingley's smiles."

"Yes, at some point the facial muscles must tire."

Miss Darcy laughed again. Elizabeth put her hand to her lips.

Mr Darcy looked from one to the other, quizical.

"That's just what Miss Bennet said." Georgiana explained as soon as she was able. "Excuse me, I think I will get some refreshment." She ducked away before her brother could insist he provide for her.

Once she was out of earshot, he spoke. "I have rarely seen her so relaxed in company. Are you certain you will not be in town this winter?"

"My Aunt has invited me, but my Father is reluctant to lose two daughters at once."

"I cannot fault him for that."

"I believe Mr Bingley and Jane plan to remove to town at the end of the season. I am welcome to join them but I am reluctant to intrude so soon after their marriage."

He smiled softly and nodded, understanding, if not happy about it.

Wondering if she merely wished to see him disappointed, she summoned the courage to speak on, "It is a good thing you and I have called a truce and found something of a friendship, as we will undoubtedly cross paths again and again now."

"Yes. I am very glad we understand oneanother better." And glad we will meet again, he thought but did not say aloud.

"When do you remove to town?"

"This afternoon."

"So soon?" She spoke without thinking.

He smiled. "We would not wish to intrude at Netherfield."

She nodded. Her chest ached with the dread of impending loss.

"Miss Bennet, are you well?"

She schooled her features to a smile, "Yes," her voice caught and she tried again, "Yes, thank you."

"May I get you a drink of something?"

"Thank you."

He waited for instruction.

"Water, thank you."

He bowed and left her.

She watched him go, knowing he would return. But not for long. How could she bare it? She should be glad of his leaving, that he would no longer haunt her with lost possibilities, but she must admit to herself there was still a shred of hope. She wondered if it would ever die.

He held out the glass and she thanked him then drank. He seemed to be waiting for something. She looked up at him expectantly but he did not speak.

She smiled at the thought he was saving himself the trouble of talking to strangers by standing beside her.

He caught her look. "Might I ask what amuses you?"

"You may ask."

He sighed and she laughed.

"I was merely wondering if you were standing at my side to avoid the need to... recommend yourself to strangers."

"I need no such inducement."

She looked quizical and he seemed to gain courage all of a sudden.

"Dare I ask again?"

"Ask what?" She asked innocently, clearly without comprehension of what he meant.

He hesitated, his expression very serious.

"Mr Darcy!" Miss Bingley's distinctive voice, "There you are. How you must long for London. I must agree with you. I am heartily tired of the country, and to know of all that we are missing in the height of the season. And dear Georgiana, her first season, no less."

Elizabeth watched Darcy's unease with less amusement than usual, and soon excused herself, feeling that would be the simplest way of bidding him farewell – not doing it at all.


	4. Chapter 4

Jane insisted on Elizabeth's journeying with them to town the following month. Elizabeth, in turn, insisted she stay with her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner. Jane acquiesed on the condition her sister would visit the moment she set foot in London.

Jane welcomed her at the entrance-way with indecourous enthusiasm. After a cursory tour of the house they removed to the parlour and caught up on eachother's news over refreshments. Jane had to speak to the cook and so left Elizabeth to her own devices. When she had not returned some time later, Elizabeth went snooping and happily found the library, such as it was.

"Did you get lost, Bingley?" Mr Darcy stepped out from behind a shelf. "Oh, Miss Bennet."

"Mr Darcy, excuse me. I did not mean to intrude."

"It is no intrusion, I assure you. Bingley could be some time."

She smiled. "Jane left me in the parlour, to speak to the cook, well..."

He chuckled. "She will wonder where you have got to."

"When she finds the parlour empty this is the first place she'll look."

"You will be disappointed with the selection, I'm afraid."

"My expectations were schooled after the library at Netherfield. I may not find a book to read, but perusing the titles of a small library is telling, is it not? I thought I might at least find a little entertainment."

"So, you are come to town?"

"Yes. Jane insisted."

"And where are you staying?"

"At my Aunt and Uncle's."

"I hope Mr and Mrs Gardiner are in health."

"They are. Though glad of a neice to help entertain their four children who are pent up inside with the weather as it is."

"And how are you coping with being pent up inside?"

She laughed. "I only arrived this morning, so ask me again in a week."

"I hope the weather improves by then."

"So do the children. I have already been pledged to take them to Hyde park as soon as the sun shines for two hours together."

"And what do you do to entertain them indoors?"

She thought for a moment, blushed at the thought of the likely occupation of the coming evening, then answered with a version of the truth, "I tell them stories."

"Stories that make you blush?"

She blushed an even deeper shade of red. "It's not the stories but the telling." She hesitated, "Rather more theatrical than I should probably admit." But what damage could it do? Heaven knew what he thought of her, but it seemed too late to worry about a dignified and proper first impression. So the look he gave her stopped her in her tracks. It was one of the few real, heartfelt smiles she'd seen. "Are you laughing at me?"

He shook his head in earnest, the smile still lingering on his lips.

She couldn't bare the hope the welled in her and lost her nerve for waiting and wondering. "How is Miss Darcy?"

"Very well. She will be glad to hear you are in town."

She smiled and hesitated. There was something she wished to ask but dreaded it. "I would be happy to see her again but there is something I would ask you about. I am sorry to open a subject I know we would both rather avoid but I feel I must speak."

"Please."

She exhaled and watched his face, his beloved face, for a moment before beginning. "Several times, already, the subject of Mr... Wickham, and my connection to him, has been very nearly mentioned in her presence and I fear, if we reknew the acquaintance, it is inevitable. I could not bare for her to be hurt or embarrassed and I just wonder if you can really wish for a friendship between us when..."

"I do." He spoke when she hesitated.

She swallowed. "I am afraid it will come to light in public, that Miss Bingley or some other... friend, unknowingly will cause her pain."

"I should tell her, if I have your permission to do so. My instinct is always to protect her but she is not a child anymore."

"No. She is a strong and intelligent young woman. You have my permission. I never expected you to keep it a secret for so long."

"You asked me to."

"I know, and I have all faith in your discretion, but I did not believe it could be kept from public knowledge – indeed, it has not been. Except by you."

"I will tell her, and then perhaps we might call on you."

"Of course, that would be fine." She knew her confusion must show on her face and was relieved when Jane barged in, flushed and apologetic.

"Oh, Lizzy, there you are. I am sorry for abandoning you. Oh, Mr Darcy. I am a poor hostess this morning."

Elizabeth soon followed her sister out of the library.

"I am sorry, Lizzy. I did not mean to leave you so long with Mr Darcy."

"It's quite alright Jane. We are both on our best behaviour."

Mr Darcy heard this and sighed, turning away from the door, summoning patience. It occurred to him, not for the first time, that Jane probably knew of his proposal at Hunsford, the letter... everything.

Two days later the Gardiner children rushed to the window as a large carriage pulled up. Elizabeth took a deep breath, knowing the answer to their excited question of who it might be, and fearing that this frienship would give her much heartache in the long run.

Her Aunt watched her with interest, suspicions rising. The visit passed happily, perfectly in fact. Mr Darcy and Mrs Gardiner spent much of the time discussing the highlights of Derbyshire, leaving Miss Darcy and Elizabeth to become better acquainted, and as they stood to leave Miss Darcy seemed to summon all her courage, and say, "My brother and I would be honoured if you would dine with us one evening. Would this Friday suit?"

"Thank you. We would be delighted." Mrs Gardiner answered, with only a moment's glance at her neice.

It wasn't until their carriage was rolling down the street and the children had busied themselves with a game that Mrs Gardiner turned to Elizabeth, "Are you alright my dear?"

Elizabeth smiled. "Of course, Aunt. Why do you ask?"

"Lizzy, what has happened?"

"Nothing."

"Yet."

Elizabeth turned away incredulous.

"Why such doubt, Lizzy?"

She sighed. "I confess, once, before Lydia... but now?" She shook her head. "He is not half so proud as I once believed, but to be his brother – No. It is too much."

"And yet he sat in my parlour this morning and encourages your friendship with his sister?"

"That is hardly the same thing."

"You suppose he would give false hope."

"I would suppose he knows I expect nothing, he supposes I have no such hope."

"How could he be certain of that?"

Elizabeth took a deep breath, barely retaining her composure. "Please do not ask me."

Her aunt squeezed her hand. "I will not say any more, beyond this: I believe it will all turn out well." She stood and went to her children, leaving Elizabeth alone to reflect.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N – wow! What a response. I wrote this some time ago. The ending isn't done yet but reviews like those will certainly motivate me to get writing!

Elizabeth stepped out of the carriage, ready to be in awe of a beautiful home, and was not disappointed.

"Mr and Mrs Gardiner, Miss Bennet." Miss Darcy welcomed her guests in the hall and while Elizabeth was still removing her coat, led the Gardiners toward the drawing room.

Mr Darcy had waited and offered his arm as soon as Elizabeth's were free. "Good evening, Miss Bennet. Are you well?"

"I am, thank you. And you, Mr Darcy?"

"Very well." He led her down the hall, following the others.

"You have a beautiful home."

"Thank you."

They caught up to the others as Georgiana was explaining how this part of the house was a comparativley recent addition, only eighty years old.

"Yes, once upon a time there were trees and gardens, but in the interest of a third sitting room and a ballroom there is now only space for a few roses and some herbs." Mr Darcy added.

"Perhaps I should give the tour." Miss Darcy said playfully.

Her brother smiled at her confidence and nodded in agreement.

They entered the drawing room with its blazing fire and warm furnishings, candles lighting it perfectly. Next the music room with pale yellow and cream furnishings; Elizabeth could imagine it in the morning light, a peaceful haven.

"And this is the Library." Georgiana led the Gardiners inside.

Elizabeth followed, her hand still resting on Darcy's arm. She heard her Uncle's exclamation and hesitated on the threshold.

"Miss Bennet?" Mr Darcy put his hand over hers.

She looked at him and smiled then they stepped through the doorway. Her eyes grew wide. Unintentionally, she tightened her grip on his arm, and then realised what she was doing and let it go entirely. To cover her anxiety she stepped forward to examine the shelves.

No commentary was necessary and both Miss and Mr Darcy simply watched and waited while their guests wandered amongst the shelves.

Elizabeth silently berated herself for her foolish behaviour and barely saw the titles of the books, marvelling at how ridiculous she was being. It was just a library. An impressive collection to be sure, but she had been warned of that. She simply could not shake the thought that this might have been her home, could not barr its inconvenient presence at the forefront of her mind. She turned when she heard Miss Darcy and her Aunt and Uncle make to move on. Mr Darcy was watching her. That this might have been her home was nothing in comparison to the thought that he might have been her husband.

For a moment she thought he was waiting for her, ready to lead her out and continue the tour, but when she met his eyes she was disconcerted again. She could not but hope, and yet she despaired at once. She turned away and hid in the guise of perusing the shelves, all the while willing her throat to stop aching, her eyes to stop watering.

"You are unwell, Miss Bennet?"

"No indeed," she would not look at him.

"Has something happened?"

She shook her head, afraid her voice would betray her.

"You are well and nothing has happened, and yet clearly something has upset you."

"There are simply too many books," she turned, forcing a smile and swiping at her cheek.

He cocked his head to one side in disbelief. "Then it is a good thing your tour of Pemberley did not include the library."

"But it did."

"I know." He sighed softly, waiting. "Is there anything I can do for you? A drink, can I get you one?"

"No, I am well."

He stepped toward her. "There must be something I can do for your present relief." His eyes were kind and vulnerable, pleading silently.

She tried another jest, wishing heartily to return to the easy banter they had found in Hertfordshire. "You cannot always fix everything, Mr Darcy."

"Of that I am well aware, but for you I would do anything."

At that she looked up. His look spoke of hope against all odds, against all reason. It was just how she had felt all these weeks. "Can it be possible..?"

"You doubt me?" He almost smiled but for the fear in his eyes.

She wished to allay it but her own was not yet quenched. She dared not believe he was proposing. Again. Her gaze faltered.

"If you would have me, I would very much like to spend the rest of my life proving it to you." He inhaled, seemed to hold his breath. "If you would have me." He looked away. "I am not asking very well. I meant to do this properly, to not catch you quite so much by surprise."

She smiled up at him, finally convinced, then shook her head. "That you are asking at all is a miracle."

"Answer me, Elizabeth."

"At this rate of improvement a third proposal would be breathtaking."

He took her breath by a more immediate method. His confidence was arrested at the moment his lips grazed hers, and though he lingered, he barely kissed her, suddenly unsure of himself. Her teasing was too easy to misinterpret and this was too important.

"Where can they have got to?" Miss Darcy's voice carried further than usual.

Mr Gardiner answered, "If I know Lizzy she will be sequestered in your library."

As they heard her Uncle's words, Elizabeth pressed her lips, briefly but surely, to Mr Darcy's, then stepped back.

Still in shock, he took her by the shoulders and spun her around, then pointed to the bookshelf before them. "These titles might be of interest to you."

"There you are brother."

They turned to face the others.

Elizabeth saw Mrs Gardiner's repressed smile and subtle shake of the head. Knowing there was no hiding her blush, she spoke up. "I apologise, Miss Darcy. It is my fault. Your brother was kind enough to answer some questions I had about these books, and we quite lost track of time."

"There is no need to apologise." Miss Darcy smiled, almost knowingly. "Fitzwilliam often loses track of time in here."

"Then you have met your match, Mr Darcy." Mrs Gardiner added.

"Indeed." The man himself found his voice. "Perhaps we should remove to the dining room."

Miss Darcy smiled and led the way. Elizabeth stepped forward to follow her Aunt and Uncle.

"Answer me." Mr Darcy whispered, halting her progress.

She turned, ready to reply, but the look he gave her put paid to her voice, and all she could do was nod.

He grinned, cheeks dimpling in a way that made her heart race, thought it had barely slowed. Then, remembering their circumstances, he took her hand and placed it on his arm, immediately covering it with his own. They followed the others at pace, catching up as they reached the dining room.

Thoroughly distracted throughout the meal, Elizabeth could hardly taste her food and follow the conversation at the same time. Her plates were cleared and replaced before any of them were empty.

"Are you well, my dear?" Mr Gardiner leaned toward her when the conversation dwelt on the glories of Derbyshire, a topic that required no input from either of them.

She nodded, concentrated on eating, and did not really hear what was being said until she was directly addressed by Miss Darcy. "What did you think of Arbor Low, Miss Bennet?"

She stammered before responding, silently demanding her brain to function. "It is a marvel."

Her aunt saved her. "Lizzy and I spent hours speculating on the history of the place. Our explanations varied from the incredible to the truly fantastical."

"We got a little carried away." Elizabeth confessed.

"Indeed it is difficult not to take flights of fancy when confronted by so unlikely a phenomenon." Mr Darcy said.

Elizabeth realised she had not heard him say much during the meal and wondered if he was as overwhelmed as she.

The gentlemen removed to the library and pretty soon after joined the ladies in the drawing room. Elizabeth looked up on their entry, at first arrested by the joy bursting from Mr Darcy's features, despite his evident efforts to restrain its expression. She looked next to her Uncle and found him watching her, grinning widely, eyes sparkling knowingly.

It occurred to her then that, in place of her father, her intended had spoken to her uncle. She was relieved to have had no suspicions of it until all evidence suggested the interview had gone very well indeed.

Mr Darcy boldly moved to Elizabeth and took the seat beside her. He spoke very little but distracted Elizabeth from her conversation with Miss Darcy, which he was quite happy to observe. The subject turned to music and Miss Darcy wished to show Elizabeth a collection of manuscripts she had discovered in a shop recently, promising to take Elizabeth to the very shop at the earliest opportunity. They moved off to the music room and soon enough talked oneanother into playing.

As if magnetized, Mr Darcy moved closer. He had no wish to alert either of the ladies to his attention, but took such joy from their growing friendship, their easy laughter and willing enjoyment in playing for oneanother; they seemed quite unaware of their wider audience. Mr and Mrs Gardiner spoke quietly to oneanother, mostly observing the happy situation before them. At one point Mr Gardiner disclosed the subject of his conversation with their host to his wife, who nearly clapped in the middle of a song. Fortunately no one paid her any attention at the time and Miss Darcy, who was the only person unaware of the evening's developments, remained in the dark, if very suspicious, until her guests left.

As they put on their coats, the obliging Mr and Mrs Gardiner moved to the entrance and engaged Miss Darcy in farewells, leaving Elizabeth to her brother's attention.

He dismissed the servant and helped her with her coat himself.

"May we call on you tomorrow?" His voice was soft, his mouth close to her ear.

She could feel his warmth and guessed he stood very close behind her. "Of course." She smiled and turned to face him, fumbling to do up the buttons of her coat.

"Answer me. Say the words, Elizabeth. Else I might not believe it possible."

She looked to the door and found they were quite alone. "I don't believe I was asked a question, Fitzwilliam."

He took hold of both her hands and lifted them to his chest. "Marry me?"

Overwhelmed again, she nodded, then forced herself to speak. "Yes." She laughed, nodded, "Yes." Giving in to temptation, she pulled one hand free from his grasp and touched her gloved-fingers to his cheek, her thumb caressing the dimple there. "I will marry you." She said it as much to convince herself as him.

He lifted the hand he held to his lips and then seemed to remember something. "Why were you sad before?"

She removed her hand from his face but he held the other tight. "I was thinking how impossible it would be to often be in your company when there was no hope of this." She moved toward the door and, remembering that her party was waiting, he walked with her.

"No hope?" He was incredulous.

"I thought my connection with Mr... Wickham," she spoke his name softly as if it must pain him, "I thought it must be insurmountable. In fact it should be. I do not understand how you can bare it."

"What I cannot bare is the thought of a life without you. I know, last April, you thought me devoid of every proper feeling, but my determination to forget you failed. At Pemberley my object was to show you that your reproofs had been addressed. I hoped, but never believed, that you might yet..." He was interrupted as they joined the others and their conversation was cut-off by good-night's and till-tomorrow's.

The moment their carriage moved away, Mrs Gardiner grasped her Niece's hand, and exclaimed, "Oh, Lizzy! I am so happy for you. See? I told you it would all work out well. He is just what a young man ought to be."

Elizabeth laughed. "I would have to agree." Now that she'd begun to smile she could hardly keep her mouth from grinning.

"He is handsome and kind and generous."

Elizabeth just smiled, almost bursting with joy, still surprised herself at how the evening had played out.

"So you will forgive my impertinence and invite us to Pemberley."

Elizabeth shook her head in disbelief, the realization of what would soon come hitting her in waves: that Pemberley would be her home, that she would be Mrs Darcy, in a position to invite guests to Pemberley "I... of course. I can barely fathom... Oh, Aunt."

Mrs Gardiner embraced her and laughed. "Who would have thought?"

"You, my dear." Mr Gardiner answered the question. "Though it certainly helps to explain his generosity in arranging Mr and Mrs Wickham's affairs."

"It is too much." Elizabeth held her hand to her mouth and shook her head.

Her aunt and uncle, watched her and smiled.


	6. Chapter 6

Mr and Miss Darcy visited early the next day. Miss Darcy took Elizabeth's hand and burst out, "Oh, I am so happy," by way of greeting.

Elizabeth laughed and looked over to find Mr Darcy watching them happily.

The weather had improved and they were on the verge of walking out when Jane Bingley arrived. She greeted them all then turned to Mr Darcy and said, "Charles went in search of you this morning. He will be most disappointed he did not come with me." She hesitated, noticing something was different but not knowing what.

Elizabeth saw that the window in which she might inform her dearest sister of her engagement herself was closing. "We were just going for a walk, Jane. You must join us."

She had been on the verge of taking Mr Darcy's arm, but now took her sister's and they led the way to a nearby park. The rest of the party followed and soon heard Jane's cry of "Oh, Lizzy!" She turned and hugged her sister in the middle of the street, abandoning their walk and rushing back to the others.

Elizabeth followed slowly, watching the scene unfold. Jane congratulated Mr Darcy and exclaimed again how disappointed her husband would be to have missed this visit.

"And we shall be sister's." Jane took Miss Darcy's arm as Elizabeth reached them. She marvelled at the easy arrangement as Mr Darcy offered his arm and they began walking again, most agreeably paired off.

"I wish I could be certain of such a reception from the rest of my family." Elizabeth confessed, once they had walked ahead a little.

"Will they be displeased?"

"Surprised, most likely. My mother will... oh, you can imagine. I apologise in advance."

"You needn't do so. I have my own concerns."

She looked up at him, waiting for an explanation.

"Lady Catherine." He said simply.

"Oh dear."

"Do not think on it, Elizabeth."

She nodded in agreement, basking in the sound of her name on his lips.

"May I ask, will your father approve?"

"He will, though I must warn he will tease you more cruelly than I."

"He too will be surprised, I take it."

She was mortified at the truth of it. Her family's opinion of her intended was embarassingly inaccurate. "Yes, but he will see your worth. Any trouble he gives you will be in part revenge – for taking me so far away. An invitation to Pemberley and a glimpse of a library will bring him around."

"I can utterly understand how he might dread losing you. I know my... comments about your family, when we spoke last easter, were disparaging, but please know they will always be welcome in our home."

"Thank you. Your words upset me, in part, because they were accurate."

"No. I was entirely wrong to speak so. Will you believe I did not even think of my own relatives behaviour? And I certainly did not consider my own behaviour at all."

"I misinterpretted yours, so prejudiced was I against you. You had insulted my vanity, and from that point on I was determined to dislike you."

"I hardly made the task a difficult one."

"I was never so confused in my life. Reading your letter upended my understanding of my very self."

"I hope you have destroyed it. At the time of writing I thought myself calm and cool, but since then I have come to realise how bitter my words must have been. Your rejection, to take your turn of phrase, upended my very understanding of myself."

"I am ashamed to think of what I said then. Please know how I have long regretted it. The letter, I have kept, but it shall be burnt if you believe it necessary for the preservation of my regard. I suppose we both have reason to believe my opinions not entirely unalterable, but they are not, I hope, so easily changed as that implies."

"I do not imagine the change of your opinions easy, except by comparison to the change you affected in me. You were not incorrect in your opinion of me then and I can only assume you give me too much credit now. I was selfish and conceited, and you were a very efficient teacher. I only hope I learned the lesson, as I'm not sure I'd survive it again."

He was so very dear to her and she knew not how to express it, but felt she must try. "I cannot promise to never hurt you again, much as I would wish it. I can only say that I love you too dearly to wish for, let alone attempt, any change."

He would have reitterated his earlier sentiment, that she gave him too much credit, but he was too affected by her profession to speak.

When he did not reply she looked up at him and was arrested by the strength of emotion in his expression.

He took hold of the hand she rested on his arm, pressed his thumb against the back and his fingertips into her palm. She closed her hand around his fingers.

"You cannot know what that means to me." He found his voice.

"Yes I can. I have spent weeks trying to keep from hoping, convinced you could never renew your addresses. Whenever we met, you were kind and amiable, in hindsight I suppose you were courting me, but at the time I felt it to be exquisite torture, to truly appreciate you only when it was too late."

"Oh Elizabeth, I could not give you up, even when you declared I was the last man in the world you could be prevailed upon to marry."

"Oh, do not repeat what I said then."

"The memory is less painful every moment."

"I suppose it helps that you are in fact the only man in the world I could be prevailed upon to marry."

"Prevailed upon?"

"No," she laughed, "Quite the opposite. No amount of prevailing could convince me otherwise."

"I have no question of your constancy but I must admit to enjoying your reassurances, having so long doubted the possibility of your affection."

"And I enjoy the happy task of convincing you of the depth of my regard."

"By all means. In such a public setting I do not trust myself to attempt to convey the depth of mine."

"I look forward to another accidental meeting in Mr Bingley's library." She was amazed to hear the words come from her mouth and looked at him expecting shock.

He only looked pleased, if not inspired to mischief. "Perhaps when we're less likely to be interrupted."

Elizabeth laughed. "We could simply make the excuse that we couldn't find anything worth reading."

"Being in love themselves, they would have to forgive us."

"Or at least improve their library. Either way, only good can come of it."

"Indeed."

She could barely believe that they'd all but arranged a tryst. She was no less surprised when it actually occurred two days later. Jane was entertaining visitors when Elizabeth arrived, and she had no desire to interrupt, so she waited in the Library. She was amazed to find a book that interested her on the sparse shelves. Assuming she would be quite alone until Jane arrived, she kicked off her slippers and put her feet up on the sofa beside her. The fire was well stocked, courtesy of the servant who had shown her in, and it blazed now, making her warm and sleepy.

The book was interesting enough for her to take it from the shelf, but it couldn't keep her head from lolling onto the cushions.

Hearing something, she sat up and saw that Mr Darcy was quite happily sitting opposite, smiling at the sight of her dozing on the couch.

"I'm sorry," She righted her skirts and slipped her feet into her shoes.

"Don't apologise Elizabeth. If I were an artist I'd paint such a scene. As it is I suppose I'd not want to share the scene with another, no matter how talented a painter."

She laughed. "If you take the time to practise, Fitzwilliam..." She stood, brushed at her skirts to straighten them.

He stood up. "I've a lifetime to do so, after all." He took her hand, holding it with both his own, and kissed it. "These past two days have seemed interminably long."

She nodded in agreement. "Nieces and nephews and shops and sight-seeing; it's all poor competition," she inhaled sharply when he grazed the back of his fingers against her cheek.

"No competition at all." His voice was hoarse.

"No." She agreed, wanting to touch him but suddenly bashful. She raised her hand and held his hand against her cheek, turning just enough to touch her lips to his thumb.

He swallowed and she saw the muscles work in his neck and jaw. She reached out and touched her fingertips to his jaw.

He leaned into her touch, inhaling as if it would bring her closer. "Elizabeth."

She felt his breath against her face.

"I know your family call you Lizzy but it seems too small a name." He lifted his other hand to her other cheek.

"I don't mind. But don't take to Eliza."

"To say I have taken to to her would be an understatement, but I think I can refrain from using the name."

He was so close. Any moment he must kiss her, but she was too nervous to wait or initiate the contact herself. "You tease better and better Fitz."

He shook his head, smiling through his indignance, eyes warning.

"William?"

He looked uncertain, thinking.

"Fitzwilliam is my favourite." She whispered shamelessly.

"To hear you say it," he inclined his head, unable to express the effect, especially while she was so close, intoxicating him by every sense. He stroked her cheek adoringly. "How I love you, Elizabeth." He looked at her mouth but hesitated and she was relieved to discover that he was as nervous as she. "May I?" He asked.

She nodded only enough for him to discern it.

He kissed her tentatively, holding her face reverently, as if she were some sacred object.

Inadvertantly, she leaned into him, lifting her hands to take hold of his arms, to keep her balance, though the world seemed to spin and fade away when she felt his tongue against her lip. She opened her mouth to his as he slid his fingers back into her hair and pulled her head closer. The space between them felt as if it evapourated. She tipped her head and his arms slid down and around her body; she lifted hers to encircle his shoulders. Her hands pressed against his back and not half a thought was spared for propriety; the heat of his body, his breath, his touch, drawing her in.

"I'm sorry." He pulled away, though kept his hold on her.

She shook her head, running her hands up his back, his neck, cupping his face. "Really?"

He exhaled and rested his forehead against hers. "No. But I should be."

"Why?"

He took a deep breath, taking a stray curl between his finger and thumb. "Because time is going to move very slowly in the next few weeks and the last two days felt like ten. Now that I've tasted you," he shook his head, "I am undone."

"I am..." she nodded, a little dizzy, "I'm not an expert, but that seems to bode rather well for our marriage."

"Yes, but it's getting to that point I'm worried about."

She nodded, trying to slow her breathing. She put a hand against his chest to steady herself and felt his heart thumping beneath. "Your heart is racing almost as fast as mine."

"Almost?" He gave in and kissed her again, trapping her hands against his chest as he pulled her close again. This time he broke the kiss much sooner, and let loose his hold on her.

"Just as fast, then." She stepped away so that only her hand on his chest connected them. "I have always thought swooning a ridiculous show but I'm beginning to understand," she laughed at herself and let her hand drop to her side.

He looked away from her, letting his breathing slow down, "The imminent threat of interruption serves us well, I think. Though, I suppose, if we were to be discovered and made to marry immediately, I would soon get over it."

She laughed and sat back on the sofa.

He turned away.

"What's wrong?" She watched him, admiration tempered slightly by concern.

He turned back and sighed. "If I am not very careful I will merit you reproof for ungentlemanlike behaviour. Again."

She restrained a smile. "You are too gentlemanlike to accuse me of being unladylike."

He shook his head. "I would not wish you to feel any less for me. I could never regret affecting you."

"But you imagine I would wish you to feel less, to be less affected?"

"You don't know how much I am restraining myself." He sat in the chair opposite her. "Tell me, if I had asked for your hand weeks ago in Hertfordshire, what would you have said?"

"I don't know, except that it would not have been very fluent." She smiled. "I would have accepted you. I have loved you since... but it does not reflect well on me. What will you think?"

He moved to sit beside her. "Whatever I think will be a welcome relief from the realization that we could be man and wife by now."

"Since we met at Pemberley."

"Why would that concern me?" His expression showed how it pleased him – all his efforts to improve her opinion had worked.

"It seems, it sounds, so mercenary."

"Elizabeth," he waited till he turned to face him. "That morning in Lambton... I was only awaiting a sign from you, any reason to hope, and I would have asked you again right then."

It took a moment for her to register this. She smiled at the irony. "I thought I'd never see you again."

"What gave you that impression?"

"You said, I must have long desired your absence. I thought you were being polite."

"Surely you know me better than that."

She had to see the slight smirk on his face before she believed he was teasing – and self-depricating. He was too close to resist. She took hold of his cheek and kissed him, breathing in as if inhaling could bring him closer.

Though they parted, they hovered tantalisingly close to one another, just looking at eachother, trying to believe their good fortune to have found oneanother after all. So close to temptation, there was no resisting.

Bingley bowled in a moment before their lips met. "Darcy, I am so sorry to keep you waiting – ah, I see you didn't mind at all." He laughed and went to his desk. "Jane was entertaining the Whiteleighs and I didn't want to leave her to the lions."

"The Whiteleighs?" Elizabeth asked.

"It will be your turn in a few months."

"Timing is everything, Bingley." Darcy said. "Marrying at the end of the season has its perks. We can hide away at Pemberley for months without offending anyone."

Jane followed him in. "I'm so sorry I kept you waiting, Lizzy. Oh, Mr Darcy." Jane looked guilty and amused at once. "You will stay for tea?"

"Of course."


	7. Chapter 7

It was agreed that, rather than returning to Longbourne, only to travel to town for her Trouseaux a few weeks later, Elizabeth would stay in London and her father would join her.

On his arrival, the engagement would be announced publically, but first Mr Darcy's family must be informed and introduced. The informing he insisted on doing alone, and Elizabeth was glad of it. She waited with Georgiana, both trying to ignore the ordeal Fitzwilliam might be going through just a few blocks away. They spent the time in the music room and it was even lovelier than Elizabeth had imagined in the morning light. They were on a first name basis before taking tea and when their fingers were tired of playing Elizabeth asked to see the garden.

"It is not so tiny as Fitzwilliam claims. He would rather not have the ballroom." Miss Darcy explained en route.

"How often does it get used?"

"It has been some time."

"I am not surprised."

"Perhaps in the future." Miss Darcy opened the door to the solarium. "I understand you first met my brother at a dance."

"Yes." She would have said more but the beautiful warm room was enchanting and distracted her completely from her intended's feelings about rooms full of strangers dancing.

"Did you dance together?"

Elizabeth hesitated to answer.

"He would not have danced with anyone if he could help it."

"He danced with Miss Bingley I believe."

Whatever Miss Darcy wanted to say in reply, she held back, opening the door to the gardens. The air was icy but there was no wind and the sun had burned off all but the last whisps of mist and fog.

"I can get another shawl if you'd like, Elizabeth."

"No, I am fine. If we get cold we can just come back in here. It's lovely. I think I might prefer it even to your music room."

"Oh, I am so glad that you will be living here – and at Pemberley."

Elizabeth smiled and took Georgiana's arm. "So am I."

"I know you and Fitzwilliam will not want me with you always, but when we are all together it will be lovely."

"What do you mean? Of course we will want you with us." Elizabeth replied and then realised she had never discussed the subject with Fitzwilliam.

"Really?"

"Well, I confess, we have not discussed it, but I... I suppose we should. This is all rather new to me. I can't see how there would be a problem."

"I am so glad it will be you. I knew he would marry one day, though he did not show much inclination for it. I was afraid he would choose someone that would make everyone else happy."

"He would always consider your happiness, Georgiana."

"But not, perhaps, his own."

"Well, I hope we will all be very happy."

"Yes. We will." Georgiana declared with a laugh. "If only we could go to Pemberley sooner. It is so beautiful in the winter. The lake freezes over and... Do you ice skate, Elizabeth?"

"Not with skates on. I walk, really, no matter the state of the ground, so in winter I occasionally end up skating."

Mr Darcy heard their laughter and followed it to the Solarium. He watched them for a minute, his mind still playing over the morning's conversation with his aunt and uncle. He wanted Elizabeth to himself but would hardly ask his sister to leave them unchaperoned.

Georgiana did not need to be asked. She made some excuse, after a cursory enquiry about the morning, and then left them. She could wait till later for a full account.

Darcy didn't know if he was comfortable with his sister's shameless desertion, but he was grateful for the opportunity it provided and took Elizabeth's hand, walking toward the large trees near the end of the garden.

She waited till he slowed down, squeezed his hand. "Well?"

He sighed and shook his head. "It is not too late to get out of this Elizabeth. You deserve better."

She lifted his hand and held it between hers, stepping so close to him that he had to look at her. She unbuttoned his glove and pulled it off, then brought his hand to her lips. "I would brave the censure of the world for you. But..." she sighed, "your family. They are... your family. I don't want to cause a break."

"They will not go so far. A break would cause a scandal."

"What did they say?"

"I would prefer not to repeat it to you."

"It could not have been a very great surprise, Fitzwilliam." She could see the clench of his jaw, a sadness in his eyes. All too well, she remembered his words at Hunsford. Any alliance between them would have been a reprehensible connection, he had said, expressley against the wishes of his family and friends... and his own better judgement.

"I am so ashamed of myself, Elizabeth."

"I know you don't feel that way anymore."

"But to hear him say what I once believed? I want to resent him, but I have this strange urge to confess the whole of it. I spent much of my childhood with the Fitzwilliams – my mother was ill – the Earl was like a second father to me." He ran his hand through his hair. "Everyone is assuming you are a fortune hunter and I have been taken in." His expression indicated just how ridiculous the notion was to him. "If they only knew you had happily rejected Pemberley and ten thousand a year."

"Not happily." She caressed his cheek.

"The mode of my address spared you any concern you might have felt in refusing me, had I behaved in a more gentlemanlike-"

She stopped his mouth with a kiss.

He resisted for a moment, out of some sense of guilt and an attempt at self-flagellation. But he could not resist her for long. He gathered her into his arms and when they parted their lips for breath he crushed her to his chest and kissed her hair. "I almost lost you for my stupid arrogant pride."

"There was a little more to it than that. Are you afraid that I will balk if your relatives are rude to me? At least you know I am not so easily frightened."

"You were not frightened away by me, but you have not met the Earl." He let her go just enough to see her face.

"I am starting to feel a little nervous about it so we best make these introductions sooner rather than later."

"Well, you'll get your wish. Lady Fitzwilliam would like to cordially invite you to her winter ball, on the evening of Friday the twenty third of February. Mr and Mrs Bingley are also invited."

She took a deep breath, then nodded.

"At least in a public setting they will behave themselves. And Colonel Fitzwilliam will champion you in the meantime. I was almost jealous at Rosings. His easy manner..."

"But you have Pemberley." She took his arm and pulled him forward, to continue on their walk.

"But no red coat."

"I like this green one." She stroked her hand down his sleeve, the thick wool pleasantly rough under her fingers. He tensed at her touch and she felt the muscles harden beneath her fingers. Desire made her reckless and she held his arm tight against her body, pressing her cheek against his shoulder.

He stopped walking and turned to kiss her forehead, her temple, the groove at the base of her ear. She shivered at each touch and brushed her lips against his jaw, then his neck. The skin there was so soft she could not resist kissing it again and again. She lifted her hand to his neck and he gasped.

"Your hands are cold." He took hold of them and huffed warm breaths against her fingers.

She grazed her fingertips against his lips, then cleared her throat. "We should go inside. Georgiana will never believe we got lost out here."

"No. But at Pemberley." His smile was full of mischief and desire.

"We won't need the excuse then." She raised a hand to check her hair.

"You look perfect."

"I'm not sure you'd find fault regardless of what you'd done to my hair."

"That's a valid sentiment."

"There was one thing I wished to speak to you about before rejoining Georgiana."

He indicated a path between some fruit trees.

"You have an orchard?"

"No." He shook his head. "Pemberley has an orchard. This is a dozen fruit trees."

She laughed and continued to her previous train of thought. "Georgiana was expressing her happiness at our forthcoming marriage, and she mentioned, in passing, that she did not expect we would want her living with us, at least not all of the time. I didn't think before I spoke – don't look surprised – I insisted we would want her and then realised we had not discussed anything beyond going to Pemberley after the wedding."

"Don't concern yourself. I avoided the subject with her because we had not discussed it. That is probably why she seemed uncertain."

"Did you want time alone after the wedding?" She asked, wanting clarity between them.

"Of course, but there is enough room for privacy and Georgiana."

"And quite a few other guests."

"What do you want to do?" He would clearly do whatever she desired.

"She should never feel unwelcome in her own home."

"But she would not want to be in the way."

"As you say, there is more than enough room to keep that from being a problem."

He grinned. "Then Georgiana will live with us."

"For as long as she desires it."

"Indeed. She may tire of catching us unawares." He stopped and pulled her around to face him. Her laughter continued through kisses, until he pulled her tight against him, his hands hot against her lower back. She felt as if her insides melted and the rest of her wanted to follow, to melt right into him. She reached her arms around him, under his coat. His back was firm and warm. His muscles flexed when he tightened his hold on her. She arched inadvertantly, then realised what they were doing.

A moment's hesitation was enough to alert him to their predicament. He rested his forehead on hers and inched away, willing his breathing to a more temperate rhythm. "Oh dear God."

"Lead us not into temptation."

He laughed and stepped away, breaking contact entirely. "Be careful what you wish for."

"Mm. I don't think you will suddenly be less than tempting."

"Miracles happen." He shook his head in happy disbelief that she found him tempting.

"Indeed."

He did not understand her serious tone of voice.

She hesitated before explaining but could not resist. "She is tolerable I suppose, but not handsome enough to tempt me." She mimicked his tone all too well. He groaned and she laughed, putting her hand on his arm in reassurance.

"You did – I knew you must have heard me. It was unforgivable."

"No. You have suffered enough. I was so willing to think ill of you after that. I cannot help but wonder, and hope, that had I not heard you that night I might have seen you for what you were."

"You saw me all too clearly."

She shook her head but knew better than to argue. "So, when did I become tempting?" They started back toward the solarium.

"If not that evening then the next time I saw you, though I would not have admitted it at the time. I was miserable that night."

"Surrounded by strangers murmuring about your income and estate."

He sighed. "I had a letter from Georgiana that day. We had been apart two weeks and I'd left her reluctantly. She was unhappy but Mrs Reynolds thought some distance would help us both. She tried so hard to sound happy but all I could think of was her sad face, her pleading apologies for disappointing me. She was alone, far away, punishing herself for... how could I be merry?"

"You are a good brother."

"She needed a father, and a mother. I was not enough." He held open the door to the solarium.

"Your sister would disagree. In fact, just as you cannot bare the thought of her punishing herself, she would not have you blaming youself." She stepped ahead and entered the house.

He took a deep breath and sighed. "You are very wise. I will never be allowed to wallow in melancholy again, I think."

She grinned, turning to face him, "Oh I don't know. You are quite handsome, brooding in the corner, looking out the window." She laughed. "Mysterious and romantic. But even more handsome when you smile. Cheering you up might be too tempting to resist."

"And what method will you use to do it?" He took her hand, placing it on his arm and leading her into the house, in search of Georgiana.

"Oh, I can think of several."

Georgiana appeared in the hallway in front of them, smiling softly, waiting patiently.

"Georgie, we are all going to the Matlock's winter ball next week. Elizabeth will have the good fortune of meeting the entire family in one fell swoop."

Georgiana had the courtesy to try to hide her fear at the thought, so only looked nervous.

Elizabeth stepped forward, letting go of her intended's arm. "You and I might need to go shopping then."

Georgiana smiled and took Elizabeth's hand excitedly. "I know just the place!"


	8. Chapter 8

Despite Elizabeth's reassurances, Mr Bennet was far from easy. She told him as much as she could, without breaking confidence, even went so far as to indicate there had been some expression of his regard at Hunsford, and that she had blindly and cruelley dressed him down. Mr Bennet felt that his daughter was well within her rights on that score but she insisted,

"Trust me, Papa. We were very wrong about him. He is discrete, and shy. He might have put in more effort but he never deserved such cruel judgement in Meryton."

He patted her hand, trying to appease her but clearly unconvinced. "That he values you, speaks highly of him, Elizabeth. That he would humble himself to win you, speaks highly of his regard. But he is a man used to getting his way. He has set his heart on you and will do anything to achieve his goal. What then, once he has won it?"

"You know him to be serious and honourable, believe him to be proud, but suspect I am sport to him?"

"No. I have no doubt of his sincerity."

"He has shouldered the responsibility of a younger sister and a great estate since for over five years. He deserves the benefit of the doubt. There is no one less likely to rush in an unconsidered alliance. Mr Bingley's friendship, Colonel Fitzwilliam's loyalty, his sister's admiration, all speak volumes of his character, but if not theirs, surely you can trust my own judgement."

Mr Bennet held up his hand to stop her there. "I am not going to refuse consent Lizzy, I just want to be certain that you are going into this with your eyes open."

She sighed. "I know there will be difficulties. Surely every marriage is entered into with some level of naivete. I cannot be entirely prepared but..." It felt so unnatural to speak to her father of intimate feelings.

"Yes?"

"He is dear to me, Father. Please be kind to him."

He nodded. "Send him in when he gets here."

Elizabeth agreed and left Mr Gardiner's office. She closed the door and leaned back against it with a frustrated sigh.

The clock chimed and she realised the time. She must dress for dinner and compose herself.

Mr and Mrs Bingley arrived early. Jane left her husband to the Gardiner's conversation anf went in search of Elizabeth.

She was dressed and ready, sitting at the glass, willing calm on the tempest in her mind and the effervescence in her heart.

"Is everything all right Lizzy?" Jane entered when there was no reply to her gently knock.

Elizabeth turned, surprised, "Oh, Jane. Yes, everything is fine. Why do you ask?"

"No particular reason. Is Papa displeased with your choice?"

Elizabeth sighed. "In a way, of course. I cannot claim surprise. I only wish I had never spoken so harshly of Mr Darcy. No trouble is so difficult as when it is of your own making."

"You were justified in your beliefs, Lizzy, just as Papa is in his. He is only concerned for your welfare. Once he sees you and Mr Darcy together, he will realise the depth of your regard, and Mr Darcy's. Give him time."

Elizabeth nodded, stood. "Shall we go downstairs. They will be here soon."

"Don't worry. Papa was not very frightening when Charles asked for permission."

Elizabeth continued on down the stairs, without a reply, letting Jane follow as she wished.

After a polite but brief greeting, Mr Darcy was shown to Mr Gardiner's library. Elizabeth watched him, wishing she could speak with him privately before the meeting. She wished to reassure him. This ritual, that she had never once questioned before, suddenly seemed like an unnecessary song and dance. Mr Bennet had given his permission. Why must her fiance submit himself to this?

Elizabeth followed the others through to the drawing room. She was distracted to the point of being impolite but no one called her on it. Surely they had been in there for half an hour, even an hour. Elizabeth looked at the clock on the mantle and found only a few minutes had passed.

"Excuse me for a moment," she murmered, standing, and escaped to the hallway. Pacing up and down the corridor seemed to abate some of her nerves.

Some time later, Mr Darcy exited the library. He carefully closed the door, sighed, ran his fingers through his hair. Elizabeth stood stock still, at the other end of the hallway, watching him.

He seemed to shake himself, force his shoulders back. Then he saw her and smiled. He nodded and took one step toward her. She arrived at the same place, at the same moment, and took hold of his hands.

"What did he say?" she asked.

"He gave his consent."

She shook her head, "But what did he say?"

He sighed. "He has concerns, he made that clear. But we will prove them unwaranted. He gave his consent, Elizabeth." He touched her chin. "Is it my turn to cheer you up?"

"You don't deserve to be interrogated. He told me we had his consent this afternoon."

"Really? We should have arranged a secret signal. I would have felt better knowing that before I went in."

She smiled, sighed. "You are right. He gave his consent. We will be happy. We are happy."

"And we will win him over with the Pemberly library."

"The one in town will do it."

"Well, then." He placed her hands on his arm and turned her toward the drawing room. "we have an engagement to announce."

"To who? Everyone here knows."

He stopped walking. "Indeed. I suppose there's little need to go in."

"I do not think Papa will look kindly on finding us alone in the hall."

"Where shall we go then?" He stepped toward the door.

"Fitzwilliam!"

"I know. But one day soon, I will whisk you away from the crowds and have you entirely to myself."

Her voice faltered, looking up at the undisguised desire in his eyes.

"Tonight I will resist."

Oh, how she wished he wouldn't.

"We'd better go through."

She nodded, still not trusting her voice, and let him lead her into the drawing room.

Georgiana expressed admiration for the simplest of patterns, when browsing for her own gown, but recommended exquisite and lavish works of art to Elizabeth. In turn, Elizabeth hovered over images of simpler styles for herself and encouraged Georgiana toward something a little more extravagent than the girl would usually dare order.

In the end they talked oneanother more exquisite fabrics and designs a little more daring than either would have chosen without the others' influence. They left the dressmakers in a happy combination of excitement and anxiety.

After a fitting, early in the week, and the dresses were delivered to the Darcy's on the eve of the ball. Jane and Elizabeth would call on Georgiana, and pick up Elizabeth's dress, at once.

Georgiana met them at the door, and without a pause for refreshments, led her soon-to-be sisters up to her private sitting room.

The two new dresses hung from a screen, delicate, dusky tones of silky fabric caught the morning light beautifully.

Jane and Georgiana went forward, reaching out to touch and admire the gowns before them. But Elizabeth held back. She'd never had a dress like this. Ever. But this was her life now. She felt like an imposter. For a moment she felt undeserving, and a moment later a kind of pride in poverty. All her life she had made a little go a long way, taken simple things, simple dresses, and made them work, even if it required making them over. No, she would not let these seductive trappings define her.

Jane turned to her and she stepped forward to see the dress. It was so beautiful.

A beautiful dress, a beautiful home, would not define her. She might hope it would not change her, but she knew that could not be. Change was inevitable. She determined to enjoy the beauty and luxury. Soon this would be just where she belonged, no matter how out of place she felt at this moment. In a couple of months she would be married to Mr Darcy. That fact was far more arresting but the dress brought it home again.

"I think we chose rather well, don't you?" Georgiana smiled.

Elizabeth nodded. "I don't know what to say."

"Put it on." Jane suggested.

"Oh, no. I want to wait till tonight."

"William is going to just melt." Georgiana clapped her hands together, laughing. "Shall we take tea?"


	9. Chapter 9

Taking Darcy's hand, Elizabeth stepped out of the carriage, looked up and gulped. She could do this. She could pretend, at least. No, she was equal to this. She stepped forward.

Hundreds of windows sparkled with thousands of candles. Numerous carriage's lined the street ahead and behind them. She wondered for a moment, whether by some miracle, her own dress would no longer seem fit for a queen, once she was inside the undoubtedly elegant ballroom.

Then Fitzwilliam squeezed her arm against his side. She looked up at his adoring expression and forgot her nerves.

"I know I'm hardly qualified to give advice on the subject, but try to just be yourself. I'm convinced they will love you."

She laughed. There was no point in arguing with him. His advice was sound, even if he was ill-qualified to give it, not to mention an entirely un-objective judge of how much anyone might love her. But, she would _try_ to be herself.

Georgiana had her brother's other arm. "How can you laugh, Elizabeth?"

"It is the best I can do to follow your brother's advice." Elizabeth took a deep breath and stepped up to the threshold.

Footmen attended them very efficiently, then the ladies returned to Mr Darcy's side and made their way toward the Earl and Countess of Matlock.

"Darcy, Good evening." His aunt smiled and held out her hands. "My dear, Georgiana, you look lovely."

Darcy bowed briefly. "Aunt, allow me to introduce Miss Elizabeth Bennet."

Elizabeth curtsied.

"Delighted to make your acquaintance." Lady Fitzwilliam was polite, neither cool nor enthusiastic. That she reserved judgement, was clear.

"Your ladyship." Elizabeth replied and was glad to continue along to the Earl, where she curtsied again, hoping to God she blended in.

Darcy introduced her again. The Earl gave her a nod, "Miss Bennet," and left it at that, but he said little more to Georgiana.

It was a relief to be past that challenge and on to the next. They entered the grand hall and ascended a staircase that was undoubtedly modelled after a palace.

"So far so good." Darcy gave Elizabeth a reassuring smile.

She looked up at him, unconvinced.

"They will give little indication of approval or censure in this setting."

"In other words," Georgiana added, "we won't know the verdict until tomorrow at the earliest."

"Wonderful. Another excellent night's sleep awaits." Elizabeth sighed.

"And I thought I was the one of us most likely to be discomfited by a ball." Darcy teased.

Georgiana was surprised for a moment then replied, "Only when you are hunted by matchmaking Mamas. It's too late for that now."

"Yes, but they do not know that yet."

"They will after the first dance."

Pleased at this evidence of a more confident and happy Georgiana, Darcy smiled at her and squeezed her hand.

"Surely you have opened a ball with a lady before, Mr Darcy." Elizabeth remembered at the last moment not to call him Fitzwilliam in so public a setting.

Georgiana replied for him. "Not in town. Not in years."

Elizabeth laughed. "Well then, we will set tongues wagging."

"If Georgiana will only wander the room and eavesdrop, she might report on how well we are rumour-mongering."

"Indeed," Georgiana joined the jest without a moment's consideration that she would ever intentionally eavesdrop, "I will signal you if more mooney-eyes are required. Although I doubt it will be necessary."

Fitzwilliam acted offended then laughed. His timing was perfect, laughing just as they crossed the threshold into a room full of people who had never really seen his full smile.

People turned and would have gone back to their conversations without pause, except that Fizwilliam Darcy was generally considered a brooding mystery, and here he was, laughing, with two beautiful women on his arms, only one of which could be his sister.

"That ought to do it." Colonel Fitzwilliam approached. "Cousin, Miss Bennet, Darcy." He greeted them all briefly, familiar and friendly.

"Colonel." Elizabeth curtsied.

"Cousin." Georgiana followed suit.

Darcy's smile had disappeared and he fixed the slightest glare on the Colonel.

The colonel, who enjoyed winding up his cousin as much as anyone, continued, "It's all about to begin and there's no one I'd rather dance with than you," at the last moment he switched his gaze to Georgiana, "Cousin." He flashed her a gregarious smile and offered his arm.

"I'd be... honoured." She managed to overcome her nerves and go with him.

Darcy and Elizabeth followed, trying to ignore the disproportionate amount of attention they were receiving. "Is this what its always like? A hundred pairs of eyes?"

"No, more like two hundred."

"But everyone watching you? No wonder you avoid these situations."

"They're watching you, Elizabeth." He whispered, "Just this once, I don't blame them."

She blushed.

He smiled again, setting off another round of speculations as they joined the line for the dance.

Elizabeth had been dancing since she was old enough to walk and play pretend with Jane in the sitting room. She knew this one, and probably every other dance the evening might present, well enough to execute it safely, if not elegantly, with her eyes closed.

But at that moment she feared she'd trip, or go the wrong way, or simply refuse to let go of Fitzwilliam's hand at some point.

"I was under the impression," he spoke when they came together, "that you preferred some little conversation while dancing."

"I think I'd better concentrate."

He smiled again. "I'm not sure I can behave and let that happen. I'd much rather try making you blush again."

That worked. She glared at him through an irrepressible smile. "Well, I suppose it could be worse." They parted in the dance. United again, she explained, "None of your other aunts are in attendance."

"No."

"They would not make the journey in this weather, I suppose."

"Regardless of the weather." He replied.

"That does not surprise me."

"Unfortunately, the weather might not be hindrance enough, for us."

"Really?"

"I can only assume my Uncle has kept silent. If Lady Catherine has heard the news, then she will undoubtedly be on her way."

They parted for some time. When they came back together again, Elizabeth said, "Well now I feel better. I will survive this evening only to be eaten for breakfast tomorrow."

"I'll protect you."

"At least with Lady Catherine I know what to expect, I suppose."

"I remember you once telling me that attempts at intimidation only increased your courage."

"That sounds like me."

The dance ended and Darcy led her off to the side. She was introduced to more people than she would ever remember. Short conversation followed obligatory greeting and Elizabeth was relieved to see Georgiana approaching them, on Colonel Fitzwilliam's arm.

"Are you enjoying your evening?"

"Everything is so beautiful, Colonel." Elizabeth replied.

"Naturally," he rolled his eyes a little, "Have you been discovered yet?"

"Probably," Darcy answered, "How are you finding it all, Georgiana?"

"Not entirely overwhelming," she smiled, "but then Colonel Fitzwilliam always puts me at ease. When he's not teasing mercilessly of course."

"Do you tease him in return, Georgiana?" Elizabeth asked.

"No. I do not wish to encourage him."

Elizabeth laughed.

"Yes, well," the Colonel decided to take the reigns of the conversation, "I believe my parents would like a word." He smiled at Darcy's expression, "Shall we all go together?"

"Please," Elizabeth murmured.

Georgiana squeezed her hand. "Just in case William forgot to mention it, you look lovely tonight. I think we did rather well together, did we not?"

Elizabeth smiled. "Indeed, we'll have to make a habit of talking one another into more and more extravagant gowns."

"There you are, my dear. Did you get lost?" Lady Fitzwilliam said to her younger son.

"My dear cousin cannot, in her début season, cross a ballroom without numerous delays. You should be proud of her Mama."

"Of Georgiana I am nothing but proud. Richard, you should know better than to blame your young cousin for your own tardiness."

The Colonel bowed, "Forgive me, Cousin."

Georgiana, not entirely certain what to make of the exchange, curtsied prettily and hoped everyone would focus there attention elsewhere.

Her brother noticed her discomfort and spoke up, "You've outdone yourself, Aunt. What a delightful evening."

"Wait until you see the supper spread." Another gentleman joined them. "And this must be the famous Miss Bennet. I hear I am to congratulate you. Very quietly."

Elizabeth smiled despite herself. There was no missing the similarity. Elizabeth's guess was soon confirmed.

Colonel Fitzwilliam intervened, "My brother, Miss Bennet, Lord Anthony Fitzwilliam."

She curtsied, "M'Lord."

"I rather think a game of billiards is in order." The Earl made to leave and a moment later his sons followed.

With a squeeze, Darcy let go of Elizabeth's arm and bowed to his Aunt, then followed his uncle and cousins.

"At last," Lady Fitzwilliam smiled.

Elizabeth summoned her courage. "You have a lovely home, Lady Fitzwilliam."

"And at its best this evening, if I do say so myself."

Georgiana turned to look out at the room. "Everything is so beautiful."

"I'm glad you like it, my dear. You brother can afford to be antisocial, I suppose, but I must have you stay with me if he will not bring you to town for the whole of your next season. Do you like to dance, Miss Bennet?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Did Darcy make an exception or did you meet him at some other venue?"

"No, we met at a dance, and there was no exception." Elizabeth answered, somewhat cryptically.

"And yet here we are." The Lady replied.

"Would you believe that prior to this evening I had danced only once with Mr Darcy?"

She considered the young woman before her, then replied, "It is not so hard as you might imagine, knowing Darcy."

"Perhaps I needn't brave many strange ballrooms after all." Georgiana said, surprising herself.

"Or perhaps you will prefer a gentleman who enjoys dancing. There are good men in the world, my dear, who are not entirely like your brother."

Elizabeth felt sorry for Georgiana and determined to draw attention away from her. "They certainly needn't all be strange ballrooms, either way, Miss Darcy. You were saying only last week that it has been too long since your home has hosted one."

Georgiana smiled. "I will gladly leave the hosting to you Miss Bennet, but I think William will acquiesce if we both ask him."

"Perhaps at the beginning of the next season." Lady Fitzwilliam liked the idea, if not the part about Miss Bennet playing host ahead of Georgiana. But the friendship between them was clearly good for her shy niece, Darcy was smiling and this young woman from the middle of nowhere was standing up rather bravely to the evening's no doubt daunting introduction to the ton. Darcy could certainly have done worse.

"We will have to host a few parties at Pemberley over the summer, Elizabeth, to build our courage." Georgiana looked fondly at her soon-to-be sister.

"That sounds lovely, Georgiana." Elizabeth forgot to say 'Miss Darcy' but the slip did more good than harm. Lady Fitzwilliam could see this was no fawning fortune hunter, no manipulative two-faced social-climber, working her way to the brother through the sister.

Meanwhile, the gentlemen were much less polite about it.

"Doesn't look like a fortune-hunter to me." Sir Anthony chalked his cue.

"That's not necessary." The Colonel said, then began the game, sinking several balls in one strike.

"It's entirely necessary." The Earl waited for Darcy to start their game at the other table.

"Were you ever tempted, father? To go to the country where no one knew you from Adam, and see what it was like?" Sir Anthony asked, rather bravely.

Perhaps the Earl appreciated the courage, or was simply in a good mood. "I know better than to think you've romanticised the idea of country girls who fall in love at the drop of the hat."

"Why go so far as the country?" The colonel asked and hit the nail on the head, so to speak. His brother glared at him.

"Are you trying to tell me," the Earl ignored his sons' increasingly competitive game of billiards, and leaned in to take his own shot. He sunk a single ball and moved to follow the white, "that Miss Bennet did not know your worth when she agreed to marry you?"

"Anthony knows nothing of it," Colonel Fitzwilliam interrupted again, "and Darcy made no such claim."

"Then what is Anthony talking about?"

"He's closer than he knows." Darcy joined the conversation.

All three paused, listening for further explanation.

"Unfortunately, rumours travel just as fast as carriages, and I've never made a great effort to disguise myself because, naturally, I believed I would marry within the first circles where I was known. And unlike some, I'd never take advantage of giddy girls in love, in town or in the country."

"Your turn Richard," Anthony smacked the chalk down on the edge of the table in front of his brother.

"Hold on," Colonel Fitzwilliam leaned against the table, "she knew your station, your wealth, all of that. So how is Anthony close to the truth."

Darcy sighed, this was it. "She knew it all, and she still refused me."

"Ah, you've been taken in." The Earl banged his cue down on the floor. "It's a game some women play, teasing young fools. One moment she was charming and flirtatious, am I right? The next distant and unavailable. You've been taken in."

"She turned you down?" The Colonel's mouth hung open. He was the only one of his immediate family who know Miss Bennet well enough to know that she was nothing like the woman his father had just described. "When? Oh."

Darcy glared at him.

"That takes courage," Anthony watched his brother, trying to crack the case, "Not many women would risk refusing Darcy, hoping he'd humble himself, chase them around the room and ask them again."

"Right under Aunt Catherine's nose." Colonel Fitzwilliam shook his head, every moment more amused.

"You proposed at Rosings?" Anthony got on the bandwagon.

"No," The Colonel answered for him, "at the parsonage."

Darcy could scarce believe it. What had possessed him to tell these cretins, these merciless jesters, of his most humiliating moment? The Earl was watching him. He picked up his cue and played his turn.

"Well done, Miss Bennet." The Colonel just kept going.

"At Easter then?" Anthony was still trying to piece the puzzle together. "But that's months ago. Have you been secretly engaged for so long?"

"No," The Colonel answered, "No, she refused and she meant it. You remember last summer, Anthony. He was trying to give her up."

The earl played his turn, and badly. He was too interested in watching the rather dark storm creeping beneath his nephew's expression.

"Well, clearly, I've been living in a dream world." Anthony put his cue back on the stand, giving up the game now that his opponent was entirely disinterested. "Who would've thought?"

Darcy played a final excellent shot and then stood up straight, "Yes, well." He put his cue on the table, bowed and left them to debrief his pathetic history, only hoping that the sacrifice of his pride might abate the cold civility of his uncle, and hasten Elizabeth's welcome to the family.

"There you are, Darcy."

He stopped cold. The familiar screech of his _other_ aunt reverberating in his skull.

"I have heard the most outrageous report and I must insist on it being universally contradicted."

He took a deep breath and then slowly turned to face Lady Catherine deBourgh.


	10. Chapter 10

"Good evening Aunt." Darcy said through gritted teeth.

"It most certainly is not. Not yet, in any case. As soon as you dispel this ridiculous falsehood that has most unfortunately made its way half way across the country, the evening will vastly improve."

He could think of several replies, but none of them seemed wise, or if wise, not honest. He knew exactly which rumour she wanted him to refute, so he could not plead ignorance. And if this conversation must descend into an argument, he would not be the to one irrevocably set it on that path. Not yet at least.

"I see you will not oblige me with openness, forcing me to elaborate, but think Darcy! What if we are overheard? We would only give credence to the rumours, which I can only hope have not reached London."

"Then you have only just arrived, Ma'am."

"Of course. This is far too important to delay. Arrangements may have never been formalised, but I will not have my daughter disgraced by your careless admiration for some country nobody."

"Perhaps we should speak in a less public setting," he thought of Anne, pitied her. "How is my cousin?" He led the way down the hall towards the library, thinking how he might show Elizabeth down the same route later in the evening, once all this was dealt with. Elizabeth would like the library and he would like a moment alone with her.

"As well as can be expected, under the circumstances."

Once the library door was closed behind them, Darcy began. "I must be frank, Aunt Catherine: The engagement which has been presumed between myself and cousin Anne, will never be formalised."

"What?"

"I have tried to discourage you with disinterest, but I should have spoken plainly long ago. I know it has long been your wish, but I am certain my own mother would never have wished either myself or Anne to marry without stronger affection that that of cousins."

"What would you know of your dear departed mother's wishes?"

"I was not so young when she lived. I remember more than you might imagine. But that aside, when it comes to the point, I am my own man, free to marry where I wish."

"Are you lost to every claim of propriety, delicacy?"

"Perhaps it was a breach of both to speak openly, with certainty, of an engagement that has never been formalised, when it was not within your power to do so."

"Obstinate, headstrong boy. I am ashamed of you!"

He sighed, waited for the accusations, the interrogation to begin.

"What of honour, decorum, prudence, even affection? No doubt you think you are in love? But that upstart will never be noticed by the family or acknowledged by your friends. It is the place of those high-born, Darcy, to take pity on the low, and so I must protect Miss Bennet," Lady Catherine all but spat the name, "from the censure of the world. Do you not see how she will be despised and slighted by everyone?"

"I must stop you there, Aunt. I am well aware of your objections, I might even acknowledge some understanding of your concerns, but as Miss Bennet has been acknowledged in this very house, by the Earl and Countess, this evening, I can assure you, at least on that score, that you are mistaken."

Lady Catherine gasped, sputtered, and began again. "You and Anne were formed for one another. All this to be prevented by the pretensions of a young woman without family, connections, or fortune. Is this to be endured! It shall not be. If she were sensible of her own good, she would not wish to quit the sphere in which she has been brought up."

"Lady Catherine, I have tried to be civil, but there is little more to say than this: Miss Bennet and I will be married. The engagement will be announced in tomorrow's papers and any attempt to alter this arrangement will only risk damaging the relationship between Pemberley and Rosings, and threaten the family with humiliating scandal."

"You pretend to be concerned about scandal when you are the one unleashing it upon us!"

He turned to go, his hand on the door handle when she spoke again.

"I have another objection. I am no stranger to the particulars of the youngest Miss Bennet's infamous elopement. I know it all; that the young man's marrying her was a patched-up business, at the expense of her father and uncles. And is _such _a girl to be your sister? Is _her _husband, is the son of your late father's steward, to be your brother? Heaven and earth! - of what are you thinking? Are the shades of Pemberley to be thus polluted?"

"You can have nothing further to say. Excuse me." He left the room.

"This is your final resolve?" She followed, yowling down the hallway, at the end of which was a fortunately rowdy ballroom and its thoroughly distracted occupants.

Darcy joined them with uncharacteristic haste. He crossed into the crowd, hoping his aunt would not follow. Reminding himself of the truth of his words – his Aunt was powerless in this instance – he searched the room for his fiancé and his sister.

Both were dancing; Elizabeth with Colonel Fitzwilliam and Georgiana with the elder brother.

He had to get them out of here. There was no knowing what Lady Catherine might do. If nothing else he would protect Elizabeth and Georgiana from the onslaught of his aunt, not to mention the humiliation of a public confrontation.

Elizabeth laughed. He watched her, mesmerized.

The set ended and the group hovered where they were, in no hurry to their next partners or anywhere else. Darcy didn't notice the room beginning to clear, but the path ahead became easier, and so strode across the ballroom with undisguised urgency.

"Ah, there you are cousin," Colonel Fitzwilliam saw him first.

The others turned.

Elizabeth smiled and touched his arm, shaking him from his blinkered vision. It was supper time. They were in the middle of a ball and none but he knew that a villain lurked off stage left.

"What's happened?" Georgiana asked what Elizabeth wouldn't.

"Lady Catherine has arrived."

He felt somewhat vindicated seeing their shocked responses.

"Where is she?" Colonel Fitzwilliam sounded like he was ready to attack.

"We spoke in the Library. I left her there." Darcy looked back but could not see her.

"Perhaps she will not stay." Sir Anthony suggested, "Poor Anne's probably outside in the carriage, for heaven's sake."

"Good Lord," Colonel Fizwilliam said, "She probably is too. I will rescue Anne. The rest of you should go in to dinner as if nothing's the matter. Aunt Catherine will not cause a to-do in the middle of the winter ball, in front of all society. She's probably being shown to her chambers as we speak."

Sir Anthony held out his arm to Georgiana.

Darcy watched the Colonel go, then looked around, still searching for Lady Catherine, hot in pursuit of her errant nephew.

Elizabeth took his arm.

He looked at her. "Perhaps we should leave."

"One more dance after supper, and then we may go without causing a stir. You cousin is right, Fitzwilliam. To leave now would be suspicious and Lady Catherine's pride can be relied upon. She will not humiliate herself and her family in this public setting."

He gritted his teeth.

"Forget her words," She pulled him forward, to catch up with the others – the last of the crowd to leave the ballroom. "We will prove them all wrong."

"I cannot, Elizabeth."

"What will distract you – or cheer you up? I'm afraid I should not employ every method I can think of to do the job, not right here in any case. But I will find a way."

His expression cracked, the slightest of smiles tugging at his lips.

"I could hold your hand under the table at supper."

"Elizabeth,"

"As we are yet to make an announcement, I was under the impression we were to address one another more formally this evening."

"Forgive me, Miss Bennet," He held her hand tight against his forearm, "for now."

"Perhaps the supper will cheer you up. Your cousins have boasted highly of it."

"Is that what you were laughing at?"

She turned to him, slowing the pace, wondering which laugh he was asking about, and why.

"When you were dancing with the Colonel."

"I don't remember. Nothing very impressive or important. I laugh rather easily."

He led her to an empty seat beside Sir Anthony and pulled out the chair.

"Mr Darcy, whatever is the matter?" She asked, quietly, once he sat beside her.

"Nothing."

"Clearly something."

"Perhaps I should get some air."

She watched him, concerned, then took his hand under the table.

He looked up, surprised, for a moment, then determined to look completely unaffected, as if nothing of any interest at all was going on undercover of the tablecloth.

She interlaced her gloved fingers with his then tucked her thumb between their twined hands and ran it in circles over his palm.

Without more than the necessary replies to Georgiana's and Sir Anthony's conversation, Darcy and Elizabeth ate a little supper, drank a little wine, and kept up the appearance of perfectly ordinary, civil behaviour.

Jane and Bingley joined them after the main course. Both praised the ball, the dances, the supper; everything was charming.

Elizabeth tried to attend the conversation but gladly let Jane and Georgiana pursue a conversation about a shopping district they both loved. Bingley and Sir Anthony had not previously met and found enough commonalities in education and acquaintance to rely little on Darcy past an introduction.

Some time later. Darcy stood, offered his arm, let everyone assume he was dancing his second dance of the evening with the same woman. That was interesting enough, to the ignorant observer. No one considered his behaviour might be more scandalous.

He led Elizabeth right through the nearly-empty ballroom and down the corridor toward the library, only slowing when he heard the distinguished voices of his Aunt Catherine and the Earl.

"That is enough! Eleanor will be furious. We have undoubtedly missed dinner. Will you take a guest room for the night or travel back to Kent immediately?"

"Do not think I will surrender this easily." Lady Catherine huffed, "A room."

"Do not worry, Catherine. I fully expect to hear every one of your objections thrice over before your inevitable return to Rosings, crowned with disappointment."

"I cannot believe you defend this... this abomination."

Darcy realised that they would not be alone in the hall for long, and all but pushed Elizabeth into the library, shutting the door behind them only a moment before the Earl and his furious sister entered the hall.

"I do not defend it, I simply recognise that it is beyond my sphere. It is done, Catherine. Perhaps we could have prevented it, but I am beginning to doubt even that."

Hasty footsteps passed the library door and Darcy breathed a sigh of relief. "I wanted to leave, to protect you from her, and I almost threw you in her path."

"Threw me out of her path is more like it." Elizabeth smiled, looking up at him.

"I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?" He took her hands, checked her arms over.

"Not at all. I was teasing."

"I wouldn't recommend it this evening."

"Just think," She reached up and smoothed the lines creasing his forehead, "in just five weeks we will be on our way to Pemberley, away from the eyes of the world, where you can safely whisk me off to the library any time you like."

He smiled, "That will cheer me up." He put his hands on her shoulders, his thumbs caressing the lace edge against her skin. "Do you have any idea how breathtaking you look this evening?"

"I have noticed you a little breathless, but I thought it might have been Lady Catherine's influence."

He thought about kissing her then, stopping her words and kissing her, but he resisted, knowing that in his current state of mind, any kind of control would slip so easily. "Tell me, what did Aunt Eleanor have to say after we left?"

"Lady Fitzwilliam?" It was so strange to hear the peerage referred to so casually. She wondered if she would be expected to follow suit. "She was polite, do not concern yourself. I think we may have tentatively planned a ball for the beginning of next winter."

"That sounds like a rather successful conversation between ladies."

"A ball to be hosted by Mrs Darcy."

"Oh." He took a deep breath, smiled, "Well, I suppose we might suffer through it once in a year if it will win over Aunt Eleanor."

"What about the Earl? I assume you did not only play billiards."

"No, I was ambushed by Lady Catherine. But before that," he nodded, "Sir Anthony is won over, and the Colonel, of course," there was the slightest scowl.

She shook her head, a laugh on her lips, "You cannot be envious."

"I cannot seem to help it."

"I will be back in my usual dresses after this evening. Will that help?"

"A little." He kissed her shoulder, where the lace edge ended and soft skin began.

She giggled, "It won't make a jot of difference until you believe, to the very core of your being, that I adore you, and only you, Fitzwilliam Darcy."

He kept kissing her shoulder, moving down as far as he dared before ascending her neck.

She arched, groaned. It was such a little touch, these light and lingering kisses, trailing up over her throat, but how they affected her! Her body wound tight with delicious tension. She steadied herself against him, taking hold of his waist.

He stepped closer and she found herself pushed back against the door. He pressed his hands into her back, clamping her body against his. He paused, looked at her face, eyes half-shut, mouth half-open. It was more invitation than he could resist and he kissed her.

Glad of the solid door behind her, she opened her lips to him. Her fists closed on his jacket, pulling him closer, as if he could be closer. Every contour of his body, she felt against hers.

He lifted one hand higher on her back, pressing her breasts against his chest, and the other hand inched lower.

Her head spun with the sensation; her body tingled with tension and seemed to pulse in swells of release and increasing tension, with the pressure of Fitzwilliam against her.

He lifted her to her tiptoes and without thought, she arched against him, an undeniable response. He moved his hands to keep hold of her, and just before she slipped, he pressed her hard against the door and slid his hands to hold her thighs, lifting her further and parting her legs.

She felt each finger, pressed into her legs, stretched out toward the centre and taunting. She felt him press solidly against her core and uttered, "Oh!"

Hearing her he paused, beginning to come out of the haze.

"What in the world is going on?" Aunt Eleanor's voice reached through the solid wooden door.

Darcy came out of the haze.

"You've missed dinner. I feel like a character in a play who's been off stage for all of act two."

He silently lowered Elizabeth to the floor and released her.

The Earl replied, "My sister has come after all."

Elizabeth's eyes were wide, her breath coming fast and ragged.

"Catherine is here?" Lady Fitzwilliam asked, surprised.

Elizabeth and Darcy were frozen there, listening to the exchange out in the hall.

"She is in the gold room in the east wing, I believe. We will undoubtedly have the pleasure of her company at breakfast." The Earl explained.

"Did she see Darcy? Oh, no, she did not see Miss Bennet, did she?"

"Only Darcy."

"Brave boy."

"Oh, there you are," Colonel Fitzwilliam strode down the hall to join his parents, just outside the library door, "Is Aunt Catherine staying the night? Because I've just seen Anne up to a guest room."

"She brought Anne?" The Earl spoke in disbelief.

"I think I preferred ignorance." Lady Fitzwilliam shook her head. "It's a miracle she didn't make a scene."

"Well, I suppose it was only a matter of time." The Colonel said.

"Just don't be late to breakfast, Richard." His mother insisted, "I won't be lectured to in my own breakfast room for allowing my sons to be layabouts."

"Perhaps I should retire now then, get a good night's rest."

"You will do no such thing! Goodness me, I hope Miss Bennet knows what she's getting into, connecting herself to you lot."

Darcy had taken the slightest step back. He smirked at his aunt's words then remembered again that any moment they might be caught. The earl might insist on relocating the conversation to the more private library, and then Elizabeth would have to hide behind a curtain or worse. Finding Darcy in a library during a ball, alone, on the other hand, would not set a precedent.

Elizabeth stood near him, no longer touching the door or Darcy. She held a loose fist to her mouth and listened, watching Fitzwilliam for unspoken instructions, or a hint at a plan.

"Well, there's nothing to be done now." The Colonel spoke up.

"Except try to return to the ball without attracting any attention, and somehow convince everyone they just missed the Earl at dinner."

"Wouldn't be the first time."

"Enough cheek out of you boy. I may not be wearing a sword but I would have yours to your neck in a moment."

"Really!" Lady Fitzwilliam marched them off, standing between them like badly behaved school children.

Darcy breathed a sigh of relief, then whispered, "I'm so sorry."

She smiled, "No, that was as much my fault as yours."

"Elizabeth-"

She shook her head and pressed her fingers to his lips. "I'll go first. Am I all in order?" She turned around.

"You are perfect, and unmarked. I must apologise, I should have never allowed myself to-"

"Don't, Fitzwilliam. You did nothing I did not desire."

His eyes dilated at the mention of her desire. By the force of his will he did not grab her again. "If we had not been interrupted, I cannot be certain..." He sighed.

She touched his arm. "I should find Jane. I have barely seen her all evening."

He nodded. "I will find you."

She smiled, nodded, and gave him her dance card.


	11. Chapter 11

The late night of the ball was followed by a leisurely morning. Jane came by in the afternoon and they took the children to the park.

Elizabeth wondered what was happening between her soon-to-be family, but as no plans had been made for a visit today, she did not expect to see any of them. Jane asked after the evening and Elizabeth told her of Lady Catherine's appearance. Jane found it hard to find fault with any party, which exasperated Elizabeth, and she changed the subject.

The following morning, Georgiana and Fitzwilliam came to call. Mrs Gardiner obligingly monopolized Georgiana's attention, allowing Elizabeth and Darcy as much privacy as one might every have during a morning call.

"What happened yesterday?" She asked, without precursor.

"At the Fitzwilliams?" He clarified.

She nodded.

"Just words. Lady Catherine, and Anne, return to Rosings this morning."

Elizabeth sighed. "Well, then."

"In a strange way, her vehement opposition may have helped us win over the Earl and Countess."

Elizabeth smiled at the irony.

"But now, at least, we can think to the future. How long will you stay in London?"

"My father wishes to return home before the end of this week."

Darcy nodded. It was not unexpected. Mr Bennet made no secret of his feelings about the city. "You will be spending more time in fitting rooms and milliners, then, and less time wandering the gardens with me?"

"Only for one week. And then,"

"And then you won't see me at all."

"And then I will marry you and be well-stocked enough to not part from you for shopping or anything, for months. Possibly years." She lifted her eyebrows.

"That makes a week's absence easier."

She looked at his hands, wanting to take hold of them. She wanted a moment alone with him, however volatile or risky it might be. No. It was probably best that they spend most of their time together, in a room full of other people. She sighed, tore her eyes from his hands, because remembering what they had done to her, what effect he had on her, was hardly appropriate thoughts for a morning call.

How was she ever going to have appropriate thoughts during her morning calls after they were married?

"Are you all right?" He put his hand on hers.

"Absolutely fine." She nodded, less than convincingly.

Jane, Elizabeth, Georgiana and Mrs Gardiner formed their party, in search of Elizabeth's trousseaux. It started well but Elizabeth feared it would at some point descend into a discussion about what she would wear on her wedding night, possibly while she was wearing a potential night gown. And Miss Darcy would be there.

The thought put a damper on what would have otherwise been quite a charming series of outings.

Later in the week, Fitzwilliam insisted on meeting them. Enough was enough. He would have an hour with his fiance, even if it meant she had a dress fitting during her honeymoon. Mrs Gardiner laughed outright.

They met at Hyde Park. Jane, Georgiana, and Mrs Gardiner, took the lead, letting Darcy and Elizabeth wander at their own pace. They naturally got so far behind, they lost track of the others.

Darcy hugged Elizabeth's arm to his side, his other hand shamelessly caressing hers. The touch was intoxicating. She almost tripped over her own feet, she was so distracted.

"Are you sure everything is all right?" He stilled his hand on hers.

She nodded, then looked up, and decided to be honest. They might not have many further opportunities for frank discussion before their wedding, and this particular though was recurring so regularly, perhaps openness might be best. "Tell me," She sighed. This was hard to articulate, "In the library, at the ball,"

"Yes?" His trepidation was clear in his voice.

"I suppose I was wondering – is that what it's like?"

He took a deep breath, "Well, yes, if you mean what I think you mean."

She nodded, then stopped walking, realization hitting her forcefully.

"What is it?"

"I just realised."

He waited for her explanation.

She couldn't find the words, moving her lips to begin several times, before giving up. This was all new to her, but it was less so, to him.

Her expression said it all. "Yes," he confessed. "I wish it weren't the case, but I have... ah,"

"Don't say it. I understand."

"Do you?"

"Well, I know what you aren't saying, but no, I suppose I can't understand."

"It is a right of passage, of a kind, amongst... no, that is no excuse. I have nothing to offer you but apologies and regrets."

She exhaled, then nodded, and turned back to the walk. "I have never felt so entirely overwhelmed and beyond reason or control. It is difficult to imagine that you might have, with another woman."

"Neither have I, Elizabeth. I have experience of something, some part of it. But trust me in this, I have never experienced what I feel when I am with you, and what we will have, what we already have had, is new to me. It is overwhelming and surely you know that I was beyond reason or control, that night in the library."

She met his eyes in acknowledgement of that.

"Do you want me to tell you everything. I will – no matter how difficult to put into words – if you really wish it."

She shook her head, "Not now, not today."

"All right."

The walked on a little before Elizabeth spoke again. "When was it?"

He thought for a moment, "About eight years ago, and," he hesitated, ashamed, "and then two years later, again."

"With the same woman?"

"Yes, actually."

"Who is she?"

"A widow. She is a little older than I, of independent means, and she did not wish for anything beyond... what we had."

"You did not love her?"

"No." He said certainly, then went on, "I briefly, foolishly thought I did. But, no."

"Oh." She was almost relieved to hear it. He had believed himself in love. It did not make him innocent, but it removed any hint of malice or cruelty.

"We meet occasionally," he went on, "at large gatherings, but she would never speak of it, I promise you. She and I never became friends after ward. We are polite, no more. But she is discreet, and not unkind."

Elizabeth nodded. It all seemed so clean-cut and convenient. It was unnerving to think she would probably meet this woman one day. Her curiosity demanded a name, but at the same time, knowing seemed like a terrible burden. Knowing any of this was a burden. She wondered how her mind would ever drift from the subject again.

"I cannot tell you how sorry I am, Elizabeth." He stopped walking. They were hidden from view by a hedge.

She faced him, looked up and met his eyes. All her longing and desire rushed back. If he had been that close to someone else, she wanted to be closer, she wanted to give him more, and to have more of him, than anyone else. Two weeks seemed an eternity.

He reached down to kiss her, the look in her eyes intoxicating, but hesitated. Her look spoke of desire, but he might have misread her. Surely, she must be angry, she must feel betrayed, cheated, disappointed.

She reached out and took hold of his cravat, pressing her open lips to his, tasting his mouth as if someone had stolen it from her and she wanted it back.

He needed no greater assurance than that. He wrapped his arms around her so that she arched against him in order to continue the kiss. He caressed her face, her neck, her arms, and back.

Then she broke the kiss and clung to him, her breathing fast and warm against his ear. "I love you." She whispered.

He held her tighter, his own breath ragged. "Know that it will never happen again. I know the world in general expects men and women to behave differently, but know that I will mean my vows, that I will always be true to you. I am entirely yours."

She leaned back to see his face. "Thank you. It would break my heart."

He kissed her softly, almost chastely. "And mine." He watched her face, adoring, caressed her cheek, clearly tempted to kiss her again. "Perhaps we better find the others."


	12. Chapter 12

This will probably be the final chapter for a while. I have an idea for a rather sexy epilogue, but it will have to wait because tomorrow begins November, and nanowrimo!

Enjoy!

Elizabeth returned home to the predictable, and yet somehow still surprising, chaos of wedding preparations at Longborne.

Jane and Bingley returned to Netherfield, generously, and perhaps naively, extending an open invitation to Darcy and his wider family for the wedding.

Darcy and Georgiana were the first to arrive, thankfully. Along with the Bingley's, they visited Longborne almost as soon as they'd changed out of their travelling clothes. Darcy pretended not to notice the undisguised amusement of his companions, at his impatience to see Elizabeth.

Greetings followed form and rather than allowing her guests to take advantage of the early spring weather with a walk, Mrs Bennet inundated them with wedding arrangements in remarkable detail.

In fact, the closest Elizabeth and Darcy got to a moment alone together before their nuptials, was at a dinner at Netherfield, the evening before all the other guests were expected. Jane, who seemed to have discovered a conniving bone in her body, since she'd married, sent Elizabeth to find Darcy before dinner. He was sequestered in the Library, finishing up a small stack of correspondence, hoping that he would then be free to ignore business for the following week or three.

He looked up at the sound of the door opening, and grinned.

Elizabeth closed the door and leaned back against it. "Dinner is soon." She stepped forward, "Now I've done my duty."

He stood and walked around the desk to meet her. "Off you go then."

"How goes your correspondence?"

He sighed, held out his hands and took hers, "Almost done. And then I am free, excepting unforeseeable circumstances, disasters and the like, to quite simply," he kissed her forehead, then her temple, "make love to you for a fortnight."

"Well, then, I better leave you to it."

"Not likely." He let go of her hands only to slip one arm around her waist and hold the other hand to tilt her face, brushing his lips against the underside of her jaw. "How about we elope?"

She laughed, put her arms around him and hugged him tight. "Two days, Fitzwilliam."

"Too long, Elizabeth."

They held one another silently for a minute before she spoke again, "When do we travel to Pemberley?"

"Two or three days after the wedding, I thought. But our plans need not be fixed."

"The wedding night will be in London?"

"I thought that would be best. The Bingley's will happily have us if you don't wish to travel."

"No, London isn't far, and the prospect of being alone is gaining appeal at an alarming rate. I think my mother might drive me mad. Perhaps you are right, and we should elope, for the sake of my sanity."

"It does seem a lot to risk."

She released her hold on him and looked up at his face. "You'd better finish your letters. Don't worry. I'll stay, keep you company."

"All right." He reluctantly let go of her, "If you stay in here long enough, you'll be compromised. We'll have to move the wedding forward."

"All the guests arrive tomorrow. I don't see why not." She sat down on the sofa and picked up a book from the table near her.

Restraint seemed so much more reasonable with only hours till their wedding, and, however unlikely it might seem, Darcy finished his letter and then accompanied Elizabeth to dinner with no more than a lingering kiss or three.

The wedding went to plan. It was uneventful, really, except for being one of the most significant events of their lives. Numerous moments of cringe and embarrassment were easily overlooked when Elizabeth could lift her eyes from her mother, or Sir William Lucas, or Mary Bennet, and spot Fitzwilliam, her husband! across the room.

They left early, their journey to London a convenient and excellent excuse. The carriage door shut and they smiled and waved goodbye until their guests were out of sight, then Fitzwilliam pulled the curtain, reducing the light in the cabin so much so that he had to find his bride with his hands, not that either minded.

He moved to sit beside her and sighed happily, his hands tracing her face as his eyes adjusted.

"Hello." She grinned.

He laughed and kissed her, indulgently running his hands down her body then pulling her to him.

She put her arms around his shoulders, savouring each languorous kiss. They tasted one another without urgency. It was, after all, not a _very_ short trip to London. When, inevitably, their passions flared, they wordlessly agreed to loosen their grasping hands and part their hungry mouths, but never broke the connection of a relaxed embrace.

Eventually Elizabeth slept. Darcy tried to, but anticipation, and the joy of watching his bride dozing on his chest, were entirely too distracting.

A small supper was served in the Library of the town house.

Darcy led the way, opening the door for Elizabeth to precede him into the room.

She smiled at his choice of location, and immediately went to stand by a familiar shelf.

He followed and stood close behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. "Fascinating selection just here."

"I think it might have been something else, in actual fact, that led me to this particular spot." She touched the spine of one volume.

He ran his fingers along the laced hem of the shoulder of her gown then followed with his lips, pushing the fabric aside and over her shoulder. "My poorly worded second proposal. Who would have thought it might inspire such nostalgia."

She leaned back against him.

He kissed her neck, his fingers fumbling with the tiny buttons down the back of her dress.

"Perhaps we should do this elsewhere." Her voice faltered.

He moaned his agreement against her shoulder. "Very wise. But first, a little supper." He replaced the shoulder of her dress but left a couple of buttons undone.

They sat on opposite couches. It seemed more likely they might actually eat some part of the meal this way.

"I can scarcely believe we are here," Elizabeth confessed.

"Finally." He added with a wicked smile. "I am a selfish being, but I might just keep you entirely to myself for some time."

She took another mouthful but the food was not sitting well. She put down her fork trying to will away her nerves.

"Some wine?" Fitzwilliam stood and went to the sideboard.

"Thank you. I must admit, I'm a little nervous."

He hesitated, mid-pour, then finished his task and returned to her. "Why are you nervous?"

She smiled at an evident gap in his knowledge. "It is not any fault of yours, or mine. No matter how passionate our courtship, I am somehow, miraculously perhaps, still a maid."

His expression showed dawning understanding.

"I understand that some discomfort, at first, is unavoidable. That is all." She tried to reassure him. "I am sorry, I shouldn't have said anything. Now you are nervous."

"No, we must always be honest about these things. I did not realise, is all."

"It will pass, I am assured." She took a sip of her wine.

He poured himself a glass and returned to the couch.

She tried to eat some more food, washing it down with wine, but soon put her silverware aside, going to sit beside Fitzwilliam.

He put his glass down and turned to face her, taking her hands in his. "Is there anything we can do, to avoid... ah,"

She shook her head and then leaned in to kiss him, "Don't give it another thought," she whispered between kisses.

The tentative touch of her breasts against his chest effectively erased thought or caution from his consciousness. He pulled her across to straddle him, kissing her neck, and trailing down into her cleavage, while digging his fingers into the layers of fabric around her hips.

She arched, aching to be closer and groaned, feeling his arousal press against her. She ran her fingers through his hair and covered his face and neck in kisses, leaving his cravat in complete disarray.

He held her tight against him with one hand on her buttocks, the other ran down her leg, to the hem of her dress, then explored beneath. There were so many layers of fabric, no bare skin between her ankle and her hip. But he gripped her thigh and pulled her even tighter against him, briefly, before pulling himself back just far enough to put his hand in between their two bodies. He explored the inside of her thigh and finally found bare flesh.

She gasped at the touch, instinctively pulling away. She looked into his eyes and waited.

He brushed his fingertips through the hair, teasing, tentative, then pressed more firmly, finding his way.

She rocked against his hand, breathing erratically, moaning, arching to give him better access, pressing her chest forward.

With his other hand, he pushed down the shoulder of her dress, then one side of the bodice, cupping her breast and pressing his face against her soft flesh, peppering her with wet and breathy kisses. He would not be able to resist much longer. Her pleasure was intoxicating, but he could not deny her, no matter how close to the brink he was himself.

She cried out, then pressed her face into his hair, muffling her moans. She gripped his body and moved wildly against him, then stopped, still shuddering with waves of pleasure. "Oh," she breathed against his neck, again and again.

He pressed his fingers firmly against her, drawing out every last spasm, despite her nervous laughter. He held her where she was, though she tried to wriggle away, shy now that the fog was clearing and she realised what she had just done.

"Oh my." She relaxed against him, acknowledging that resistance was futile, he was determined to please her.

He kissed her open mouth and unwittingly moved against her, his own body aching for release. "We'd better retire, Elizabeth."

She nodded and stood, feeling a little unsteady on her feet. He stood beside her, too close to resist taking hold of her again. Without releasing the embrace, they moved toward the door, teasing and kissing and exploring one another relentlessly.

Darcy looked at the door and wanted very much to lift her against it, as he had in his uncle's library, and to take her right there. He was hardly fit to enter the public hallway of his home, even though his servants were discreet, and trustworthy, and had probably made themselves scarce.

He somehow summoned the self-control required to open the door and shepherd his bride up the stairs and down the hall to their chambers. But the moment the door shut behind him, he bid restraint goodnight, slamming his body against hers, taking hold of her to keep her from falling backward. He kissed her with hunger, pushing her back until she fell back onto the bed.

He unbuttoned his trousers then followed, leaning over her on the bed, kissing her mouth, then freeing her breasts and kissing them, all the while lifting her skirts. Only when his tip touched against her did he pause, remembering her nerves and the reason for them.

She looked up at him bravely, ran her hands down his sides and took hold of his hips, pulling him closer.

He groaned at the sensation, moving slowly, stopping when he met resistance. He watched her face, saw her wince, and pulled back a little before entering her again, pressing a little harder.

Again she winced. When he pulled back she spoke, "I think perhaps you'd best do this quickly. It might only hurt for a moment."

"Do you think?"

She nodded, sinking her fingers into the flesh of his buttocks and lifting her hips.

He pressed in slightly, then pulled back again before committing to it.

She cried out and instinctively pulled back, but it was done. He stopped, fully inside her, and met her eyes."Are you all right?"

She nodded, "Just give me a moment."

He kissed her face, using all his will power to not move his body.

Then she moved, rocking her hips against his.

He was undone, entirely overpowered by the sensations flooding his consciousness.

She continued to move against him, watching his expression of such pleasure, which entirely dwarfed her discomfort.

Then he grabbed at her hips, slamming himself far into her and crying out. After a moment he began to move ever-so-slightly, moaning out, his eyes closed, lips parted.

She could feel him spasm inside her, against her, and her body relaxed, her own pleasure returning.

They clung to one another till their breathing slowed, then Fitzwilliam lifted himself just enough to see her face again, "How do you feel?"

She smiled and caressed his face, "Strange, but good. Very good." She assured him.

"You are incredible." He rested his forehead against hers. "Will there be blood?"

"I think so."

He nodded the lifted himself and stood up. He went to the wash stand and returned with a cloth to find her sitting up, her skirts covering more of her than they had a moment ago. He held out the cloth. "Would you like a moment? I'll give you privacy if you desire it."

She shook her head, took the offered cloth. "Perhaps you might finish unbuttoning my dress."

He sat behind her on the bed and did as she bid, completing the task as she finished with the cloth.

"Thank you." She moved stood up and put the cloth away, then stepped out of her dress.

"No need to thank me, Elizabeth. I will quite happily undress you any time you like."

She laughed and returned to bed.


	13. Chapter 13

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

(We've just had another few big earthquakes in my town today.

To anyone in Christchurch, I hope you and your family are well, and you're not feeling too rattled.

If you pray, ask for a peaceful, quake-free Christmas. It'd be such a treat! xx)

EPILOGUE

"Remind me again why we're doing this." Fitzwilliam Darcy entered his wife's room and then stopped, a smile creeping onto his face.

Elizabeth sat at her dressing table and watched him in the mirror. "For Georgiana."

"Nonsense. She's as reluctant as I am."

"Not quite." She stood and turned to him.

He gaped, eyes dilating, mouth dry at the sight of her. The soft fabric fell gracefully from her figure, taunting and teasing him with numerous memories of what lay beneath.

She smiled at his reaction. "Well, a ball is also an excellent excuse to dress up." She lifted out the skirt as if to curtsy.

"There is that." He stepped closer then seemed to stop himself with some force. "But at this moment," he shook his head, "I wonder if you'd best save that dress for a more private occasion."

She laughed. "It's a ball gown, my love."

"Perhaps I'd just rather keep you, entirely, more privately, no matter the occasion."

She stepped up to him and took his hand. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Because we've had this exact conversation before." He dipped his head to kiss her.

"Just once or twice." She murmured between kisses.

He slipped one hand around her waist.

She held tight to the other hand, a last ditch attempt to keep him from getting carried away.

With only one hand at his disposal, he used it well. He pressed his open hand against her lower back, forcing her body flush against his.

"Fitzwilliam," she warned.

He wrenched his lips from her neck, sighed. "Can we leave early?"

She reached up and touched his cheek, smiled, "We are hosting."

He turned away. "Right. Remind me again, why are we doing this?"

Elizabeth laughed and led the way downstairs.

Halfway down the stairs, he caught up to her. Taking her hand, he placed it on his arm. "How do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"This," he indicated the way forward, "With such confidence. Your London début as Mrs Darcy, and you're the only Darcy not hiding in their dressing room."

"Now I feel so much better." She held tighter to his arm.

He looked at her, then realised he'd made her nervous. "Sorry."

She continued ahead, boldly looking around the entranceway, checking that everything was in order.

Darcy spied the clock in the hall. "Elizabeth, a minute?" He led her through to the library, closed the door behind them, and in one fluid movement pressed her up against the back of the door. Then he stopped, his lips tauntingly close to hers, looked into her eyes and eventually spoke, his voice rough and breathy. "This will get me through the evening."

He was wrong, of course. A few minutes alone in the library only left them both desperate to steal another few minutes given the first opportunity.

Opportunities did not, however, present themselves. They went from the receiving line to the dance, then circulated, rarely in the same conversation, and always obliged to move on. When all was in full swing, immediate obligations met, Elizabeth looked around, in search of her husband.

She was surprised to find him standing on the edge of the room, consternation clouding his eyes, wrinkling his brow.

"My compliments," Lady Fitzwilliam joined her.

Elizabeth abandoned her intentions to go to her husband and instead turned to his aunt.

"Delightfully," she smiled, "understated. Perfect."

"Thank you, Ma'am."

"Aunt." She corrected, "It's time, I think. And my compliments were not limited to this evening, my dear. I'm spoilt for elegant parties, but smiles from my nephew? Quite another thing."

Elizabeth laughed. "I was so surprised the first time I saw him smile. He is transformed."

"Indeed."

"Excuse me," Darcy stepped up behind his wife. "Forgive me aunt."

"No, no. The earl is no doubt longing for a dance." She bit back a smile (a laugh?) and left them.

After a moment's hesitation Darcy tugged her arm and led her out of the ballroom.

"Supper is not far way." Elizabeth spoke laughingly. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"I'm not stealing you away to ravish you in the library, tempting though that sounds." He led her though to his private study.

She watched him quizzically. "Is something wrong?"

"I think you should know."

"Know what?"

"Mrs Covent-Shaw is... was Mrs Raleigh."

She still smiled, confused, waiting for further explanation. Then it hit her – Mrs Raleigh was the widow – THE widow. "Oh." She whispered.

He stepped closer, trying to read her expression.

"We invited...?" She didn't need to speak the rest of the question.

"Mr Covent-Shaw and his bride."

Elizabeth looked up at him, nodded. "You couldn't have told me after everyone had gone home?"

He took a slow deep breath. "I thought about waiting, I did. But then I thought maybe it would be better to face her, to put it behind you. I don't know. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything."

She watched his tortured expression and reached out, pressing her palm to his cheek. "For a minute, just imagine, I'd had some brief, passionate, betrothal, long before I met you."

She felt his jaw tense as his eyes bore into hers, warningly.

She bit back a smile. "You'd run him through."

"It's not the same."

"All I'm saying, is that putting it behind me, behind us, might be overstating it a little."

He finally smiled.

"But tonight," she continued, "when it's all over, I'll probably thank you for telling me."

He sighed. "God, I want you."

"I'm all yours, my love."

He grinned.

Her resolve melted and she kissed him, taking hold of his shoulders.

His restraint evaporated and he wrapped his arms around her.

She ran her hands up into his hair, relaxing her body against his. All their guests, the ball, everything was forgotten. The sensation of his hands moving against her back, her thigh, replaced all other reality.

"If you don't suddenly throw me across the room," Fitzwilliam began, then fogot what he was about to say.

"Even if I had the strength," she mumbled, then he kissed her again.

Elizabeth chanced to catch sight of the clock on the mantle and, unable to pull away, she pressed her face into his chest. "Supper will be called any moment – or it should be. If only the hostess was in a decent state."

He reluctantly loosened his grip on her thigh. "You'd think, after six months of having you almost entirely to myself..." He stopped speaking, trying desperately to pull himself together.

"That one or other of us might have discovered a little self-control?"

"Something like that."

"I suspect we're getting worse."

He pulled away, finally breaking contact entirely. "Or we're getting better, depending on your perspective."

"We'd better return." She tried to restrain her smile, an irrepressible grin."I love you."

"And I you." He considered her, marvelling (again) at his good fortune. "You go ahead. I need a minute."

"Take several."

He very nearly grabbed her again.

"I'd better go." She straightened her skirt and let herself out into the hall. Then she remembered why he'd dragged her in there in the first place. The widow. Who was now a bride. Why had she come? Surely, in that situation, you would avoid a man with whom you had...

Elizabeth sighed and returned to the ballroom, immediately clamping eyes with Mrs Covent-Shaw. She forced a smile and had a little epiphany of empathy. The woman wouldn't have told her new husband about her past relationship with Fitzwilliam. Of course. No one refused an invitation to a Darcy ball, rare and noteworthy occasion that it was, without a very good reason, and this particular very good reason was more than just difficult to talk about.

The moment she'd been dreading arrived as the guests were leaving. Summoning every good grace, Elizabeth thanked the Covent-Shaws for attending, wished them a lovely evening, and smiled with as much enthusiasm as she could muster.

"Thank you very much Darcy," Mr Covent-Shaw bowed, "Mrs Darcy, delightful to meet you at last."

Mrs Covent-Shaw curtsied and Elizabeth followed suit. "Good evening." She said, putting her all into one final smile.

As they walked out to their carriage Elizabeth turned, ready to bid goodnight to the next departing guests, who were still donning their coats.

Darcy took her hand and placed it on his arm, covering it with his own.

She looked up at him.

He grinned, proud and adoring.

The last guests to leave were, no surprise, Jane and Bingley. Georgiana walked out with them, leaving Elizabeth and Darcy alone.

"Well, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Elizabeth teased.

He watched her and sighed. "Tell me right now, when is the next one?"

She laughed. "Probably for Christmas."

"Good lord, that's not two weeks from now."

"But we won't be hosting."

"Excellent. We can leave early."

She smiled in agreement, "But we can't sneak off to the library."

"Oh, I don't know."

She watched him, deciphering his expression. "You've got plans for your uncle's library, don't you?"

He grinned.

"I'm giving you ideas."

"Please, keep them coming."

She shook her head in wonder. She would never have believed that the sullen, reserved Mr Darcy she'd met only two years previous would turn out to be such a passionate, good-humoured, and generous man.

Georgiana returned, smiling. "Well that wasn't so bad, was it?"

Elizabeth laughed. Darcy looked from one to the other, incredulous. Every now and then, rather regularly in fact, it took him by surprise – just how utterly transformed his life had been by this bewitching woman from Hertfordshire. And not only his life, but Georgiana's as well.

His sister continued, "Good thing we got all that practise in Derbyshire."

"What were you afraid might happen?" Elizabeth took Georgiana's hand and gave it a squeeze.

"Oh, the usual. Fitzwilliam scowling and staring out a window. Myself too terrified to speak to anyone. I only saw you scowl once, brother. Congratulations."

He sighed. "I take it you felt quite at ease then, my dear, speaking to near-strangers for most of the evening."

"Not at ease perhaps, and they weren't all strangers. The Bingleys and Fitzwilliams, the Gardiners. And fortunately for all of us, you married Elizabeth and I didn't have to play hostess; perfectly, impossibly, balancing my conversation so as never to favour or slight anyone with too much or too little attention."

"Oh, that's what I was meant to be doing."

Georgiana laughed. "Well, I'm exhausted."

"All that dancing." Fitzwilliam near-scolded.

"That is rather the point of a ball, brother."

"Yes, well, feel free to refuse your cousins, any time you like. They both would benefit from the dressing down."

Georgiana laughed. "I'll leave that to you." She started up the stairs, "Anyway, it's much easier to talk to Richard during a dance, without tripping over my feet, than nearly anybody else." She continued to ascend. "Good night Elizabeth, brother."

Elizabeth watched Fitzwilliam's brow furrow. Taking his hand, she led him back to his private study.

"Returning to the scene of the crime?" He asked, expression lightening as she closed the door behind them.

She shrugged. "You're worried about Georgiana." She watched him, "Why?"

He sighed, clearly with no intent to explain.

"You suspect the colonel of..." She didn't feel the completion of the sentence was really necessary.

He looked into her eyes, giving himself away. That was exactly what he suspected.

"He's older, to be sure, but interference would only – well, it would be a great risk."

"I have no intention of interfering."

"Yet."

He gritted his teeth.

"I don't think either of them intend anything."

"Yet." He finished.

"This is beyond your control, my love."

"I am her guardian."

"So is he, if you-"

He interrupted her, slamming his hand down on the desk.

She waited a moment then spoke again, "I really don't think you have anything to worry about."

"He's a loose tongue when he's had too much port. Believe me, Georgiana deserves better."

"You would say that of any man, I'd venture, the difference being that with Colonel Fitzwilliam you know exactly why."

He looked into her eyes.

"Look," She stepped forward to comfort him, taking a loose hold of his hands then running her fingers up his arms, "If, and it is by no means certain, or even likely, but _if _something were to develop between them, it is a ways off yet, and you will have plenty of time to warn, or not; plenty of time to adjust."

"Plenty of time to challenge the lousy beggar to a -"

She stopped him with a kiss. "You'll do no such thing."

"Is that right?" He looked down at her. She stood on tip-toes, her body pressed to his, her eyes sparkling, knowingly. Perhaps she was right – as if he could truly deny her anything.

"It is. Now let me see if I can distract you." She kissed him.

"Elizabeth..." He warned, not wishing to be distracted.

She slipped her hands up under his waistcoat, pulling him closer. "Let your mind wander back to just a few hours ago, my dear."

"All evening I've struggled to keep my mind from doing just that." He pulled a comb from her hair and toyed with the loosened curl. Wrapping her tightly in his arms, he spoke into her hair. "Do you have any idea how glad I am to have you here, to share this... to not carry it alone."

She squeezed him tightly, "I know."

"I never expected – even imagined – that a wife might be such a friend – an ally and confidante."

"A tease and opponent."

"Exactly." He grinned.

"You bear it well."

"Learning to listen – to truly hear you – was a hard lesson learned." He sighed, "Come, we should to bed."

She stepped back, against the door, and felt behind her to turn the key, gratified to see his eyebrows lift.

He grinned, then closed the gap between them in a single stride.

"Good God this is complicated." He fumbled with the fastenings of her corset.

She laughed and lifted her arms.

"This is why it's best to reserve particular intimacies for our quarters."

"I didn't hear you objecting before."

"Yes, well." He sighed. "Could you simply wear the dress without it? I'll hide this ridiculous contraption under my coat and we'll rely on the discretion of our staff."

"As always." She helped to remove the corset. "Why not?"

He helped her put the dress on, then fumbled with the buttons on the back. "I'll just hold it in place." He kissed the back of her neck. "You can walk right in front of me."

"Only a few of them need to be fastened." She reached her arms around behind her and awkwardly, but effectively, closed some of the back of her dress.

He lifted her half-dissembled hair from her shoulder and kissed the smooth, warm skin there.

"You're being very helpful." She turned, still adjusting the fit around her breasts. "What do you think?"

"Not fit for the public." He smirked. "Which is just the way I like it."

"Yes, well." She straightened the skirt and turned to unlock the door. "To bed."

He slipped his arm around her waist before she opened the door, pressing his body against the back of hers, ensuring there was no doubt in her mind exactly what he wanted once they were safely ensconced in their chamber.


End file.
